


Under your spell

by Never laugh at a live Sherlock (smaugholmeswatson)



Series: The world of the Magi [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Blood and Violence, Bonus Extra Scene, Death, Discovery, Elemental Magic, Emotional Hurt, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Goodbyes, Hurt Sherlock, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Long-Suffering Lestrade, Loss of Trust, M/M, Mages, Major Character Injury, Multiple Worlds, Original Character(s), Protective John Watson, Protective Mycroft, Sad, Shock, Work In Progress, kidnapped Lestrade, light and dark, technology vs nature
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-08 05:14:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 59,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13451304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smaugholmeswatson/pseuds/Never%20laugh%20at%20a%20live%20Sherlock
Summary: Greg Lestrade discovers that the love of his life, Mycroft Holmes, has been hiding a secret from him- He is actually a Magi, a race currently in control of England because nobody dares oppose them. Will their relationship be able to survive such a shocking revelation- especially when the stakes are raised and Greg is kidnapped?And worse than that there is now rising tension between the Elemental and Modern Magi which is driving London to the brink of war. Will Sherlock, John and Mycroft be able to restore peace, rescue Greg and generally stop everything falling apart? Perhaps not if the Ancients get their way....This is a story that started with a single scene and got slightly out of control. I hope you enjoy it. :)





	1. The shock of a lifetime

Lestrade could not help himself, his eyes kept being drawn to the tattoo on Mycroft Holmes's bare back. Even though this was the third time he had seen it in the last five minutes he was still struggling to believe what his eyes were telling him. How was this even possible? Despite the fact he was spying through a keyhole and really did not want to get caught Lestrade let out a strangled noise and sat back on his heels. He had known Mycroft was hiding something but he never could have imagined it would be this. The person he loved and thought he knew was a Magi. 

Magi were extremely dangerous and seemingly unstoppable with several of them surviving a point blank gun shot to the heart. They had emerged from the shadows and revealed themselves to humans four years ago and since then they had spread like a virus into some of the highest positions of government. Naturally there had been people who resisted this development but the most vocal had vanished, never to be seen again. This, obviously, put off everybody else and humans had been forced to accept the new world order. For now at least the Magi were here to stay. 

Lestrade shook his head. This could not be happening! He had trusted Mycroft, had believed he knew everything about him. From his few experiences with Magi he had found them to be tricky and manipulative, and he now found himself questioning everything Mycroft had ever said to him. Swallowing hard he put his eye to the keyhole again. 

Mycroft's tattoo, which marked the Magi for what they were and appeared to be the source of their power, was an intricate interweave of light green vines and spreading leaves that went from the base of his spine up to his shoulders. It would have been beautiful if not for what it represented; Mycroft Holmes was an Earth Magi. As Lestrade continued to watch Mycroft stretched out a hand and gestured. A swirl of fragrant summer grass sprung up around him, momentarily obscuring him from view. When it died down Mycroft was dressed in a flowing green robe with a pointed hood. Lestrade shrank back slightly and tried to decide what he should do next. Magi were notoriously dangerous when cornered. Still unsure what he should do he put his eye back to the keyhole, and immediately let out a startled yelp. A green eye was peering back at him. 

Leaping to his feet Lestrade made to run but before he managed more than a few steps the door behind him was flung open with a bang. Tendrils of ivy shot through and latched onto the policeman's s ankles, pulling him off balance and sending him crashing to the floor. Lestrade let out a yell and reached down to try and tear the ivy off. It writhed beneath his grip however, preventing him from grabbing hold properly, and he quickly gave up. He cursed quietly beneath his breath. This was not how he planned this to go. 

"Please don't fight me, Greg, you'll only end up hurting yourself." Mycroft said calmly, slowly rolling up his sleeves in order to postpone the moment he would have to look up and see the expression on Lestrade's face; the disgust and suspicion. There were better and easier ways to break news like this. The awkward silence continued to stretch out and Mycroft found himself frowning. Did their shared history mean nothing? Uncertain what to do he reached out and his heart sank when Lestrade flinched back away from him. "Please say something, Greg. You don't have to be afraid of me..." He said, silently pleading for his lover to trust him. He refused to let everything end over what was such a little mistake. 

Lestrade shook his head in resignation. Of course Mycroft did not understand- how could he? He was out of touch with the real world at the best of times and he had always struggled to understand other people's emotions. Drawing himself up to his full height he stared Mycroft directly in the eye and struggled to his feet, kicking away the ivy no longer clinging so tightly to his legs. "I trusted you. I let you in and yet you still lied to me." His voice shook as he struggled to keep his emotions under control. "I don't think I know who you are anymore, Mycroft." 

His heart aching with the knowledge their relationship probably wouldn't survive this, Mycroft hung his head and let out a heavy sigh. All along he had been dying to tell Greg everything but the Magi council were strict about such things. He clenched his hands into fists and took a deep breath to steady himself. "I'm sorry, Greg. Please believe me when I say I wanted to tell but that I couldn't. I just couldn't." 

Lestrade looked sceptical, apparently not believing a word Mycroft was saying. "You should have told me. We've been dating for three and a half god damn years and yet, apparently, our relationship isn't that important to you." He spat, his face rapidly turning red. 

"I know I should have but you have to understand Greg. It isn't that easy..." Mycroft began, only to be cut off by Lestrade whose eyes flashed as he took a step forward. 

"Yes Mycroft, it is that easy. All you had to do was tell me you're an Earth Magi! We could have worked things out from there." He shook his head and a sorrowful expression settled onto his face. "You didn't have to lie to me." 

Mycroft's face fell and he turned away to face the mirror. At some point his full Magi form had risen to the surface and his eyes glowed with a green light. He needed to get his emotions under control or risk doing something he would later come to regret. Magi had a nasty habit of lashing out with their power when their emotions weren't fully in their control. "I had no choice Greg! It is against the laws set by the high council to tell a human outright that you're a Magi. To willingly tell a human is punishable by exile to one of the Forgotten Realms." He explained, realising even as he said it how ridiculous the old laws were. The Magi on the council broke them all the time. Mycroft forced himself to meet Lestrade's eye in the mirror. His love no longer looked so shocked and he could only hope this was a good sign. He did not like being at odds with Greg- it just did not feel right. 

"There must have been something you could have..." His voice trailed off when he noticed the look of panic in Mycroft's eyes. He was trying desperately to ignore the fact they were glowing and was pretending it was nothing but a trick of the light. "What is it, Mycroft? What's wrong?" He asked, beginning to feel a little afraid. Surely a Magi had nothing to fear from anything, right? He wasn't sure he wanted to find out what could have caused Mycroft's panic. 

Mycroft did not reply and continued to stare at the previously closed door to his room that was now slowly swinging open. Swearing quietly beneath his breath he turned to face the inevitable, already knowing who he was going to find standing there. Just when he thought this could not get any worse... Sherlock would never let him hear the end of this. His little brother had been waiting to get something over him for years since the 'incident' in Buckingham Palace. 

"Come brother, you must be ready by now. You know how fussy the Grand Mage is about punctuality..." Sherlock's voice trailed off when he noticed Lestrade, man and Magi both freezing in their tracks and staring at one another with mistrust. Oh dear, this would not be at all good if the council should hear about it. He swallowed hard and fixed Mycroft with a hard stare, wondering what his brother could possibly have to say for himself. "Why is there a human in our inner sanctum?" He asked, his eyes glowing a shade of green lighter then Mycroft's as he pushed up the sleeves of his robe. 

Lestrade flinched and Mycroft reached out to lay a protective hand on his lovers shoulder. "I found him spying on me brother mine. It's not like I outright told him anything." Mycroft explained, silently pleading for his brother to listen to him because Sherlock had every right to turn him over to the High Council. "Please, you should be able to understand. I mean, I'm not the only one who has to keep secrets." 

Sherlock considered this for a moment, pacing from side to side as was his habit when he was deep in thought. Mycroft did have a good point and Sherlock was not entirely comfortable with the idea of turning his brother in for punishment since, technically, he hadn't actually done anything wrong. He took a deep breath and let it out, not noticing the flowers sprouting through the carpet beneath his feet. Lestrade had though and he stared at them with suspicion, expecting them to explode or something. Magi never did what you expected them too. In this case Lestrade swore he saw several of the flowers wave their leaves at him. Shaking his head he hastily looked away and instead turned his gaze to Mycroft, who was watching his little brother with an intent expression. He could not say what was happening for certain but he got the feeling it was something serious. Then, after a few more seconds of silence- just as it was starting to get uncomfortable- Sherlock let out a deep sigh. "We don't say a word of this to the High Council. Knowing my luck I'd probably end up getting punished as well." 

Mycroft breathed a sigh of relief and gripped Lestrade's shoulder a little tighter when he felt his knees go weak. "Thankyou." He murmured, trying to ignore the tension he could feel beneath his hand which indicated Lestrade was still struggling to process everything he had learnt. It was just a shame they would not have time to discuss it now. "How long until the council meeting starts?" He asked. Being an earth Magi he had a natural mistrust of technology and the modern world, meaning he refused to have any clocks within the house. Which did occasionally prove to be awkward at times like this when there was somewhere he needed to be. Luckily Sherlock had no such misgivings and happily carried around a mobile phone much to Mycroft's disgust. 

"Five minutes, which means we really should be going. Old Rowan will never forgive us if we turn up late for the sixth time in a row." Sherlock said, as he turned off his phone and placed it down on a nearby table. Lestrade watched this with interest, wondering what the detective was doing. As though he had read his mind Sherlock smiled and glanced over at him. "Elemental Magi don't like technology. The High Council would never forgive me if I took a phone into the Sacred Heart Chamber. Old Aquarius would probably freeze me alive for the duration of the meeting." He said with a gleam in his eyes, apparently not at all fazed by this rather horrible sounding proposition. He laughed when he noticed the look of shock on Lestrade's face. "No need to worry about me. I can look after myself." 

Mycroft rolled his eyes at his brother's antics. He worried about Sherlock sometimes and his alarmingly flippant attitude towards death. On this occasion he said nothing, not wanting to start an arguement while Lestrade was here. Instead he took his hand off Lestrade's shoulder and walked over to join his brother in the very centre of the room, before turning to look back at his lover. "Sherlock's right, we have to go," When he saw Lestrade open his mouth to interrupt he quickly talked over him, "We shouldn't be gone more than a hour. We can continue our conversation then. I promise I'll try and answer as many of your questions as I can." He said before nodding at Sherlock. The brothers touched the backs of their right hands together and closed their eyes. There was a brilliant green light, a swirl of leaves and flowers and when it died down Mycroft and Sherlock had vanished. 

Lestrade stared at the spot where they had just been standing and tried to wrap his mind round what had just happened. So Mycroft and Sherlock were both earth Magi and the love of life could get exiled if anybody found out that Lestrade knew about it. He massaged his forehead with his fingertips where it was throbbing with the beginnings of a nasty headache. He was starting to wish he had never followed Mycroft and had simply stayed at home. His knees shook slightly and he quickly headed for the nearest chair. He didn't noticed the dark stain spreading across the wallpaper behind him in a shape resembling something vaguely human because his head was buried in his hands. In fact he remained oblivious to anything out of the ordinary until a hand grabbed his shoulder in a painfully tight grip and yanked him backwards out of the chair. Lestrade barely had time to cry out before he was dragged into the wall itself and the air was forced out of his lungs as something struck him hard in the back. After that there was nothing but darkness.... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I hope you like the direction this has taken because I was never intending to make it into anything but a short scene. Now however it has turned into a full story that I have all planned out so I hope you want to see more of the Magi universe. Anyway thanks for reading my fic if you get this far and feel free to leave a comment. :) I always love reading them.


	2. The High Council

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note on pronunciation.
> 
> Hiashi= Hi-Ash-She

The Sacred Heart Chamber was already full by the time Mycroft and Sherlock arrived and they shuffled into place on the benches reserved for the Earth Magi. Sherlock would have liked to have been closer to the front but seating was very much a first come, first served arrangement. Next time he would remember to call for Mycroft earlier. Concealed within an unassuming building on a quiet street the council chamber was a vast square with each of the elements getting an entire side all to themselves, saving much arguing over who had the best view of the High Council down below, who sat around a carved wooden table that had somehow managed to survive thousands of such meetings in the past. Sure it was covered with a few scorch marks but that was impressive when you considered that when Magi lost control of their emotions it was usually spectacular. The fire Magi, Cinder, was well known for throwing fireballs when desicions weren't going this way. 

Craning to see over the Magi in front Sherlock rolled his eyes when he caught a clear glimpse of the table and its occupants. He leant sideways to whisper in his brother's ear, tugging on the sleeve of his robe to get his attention. "Watch out. Cinder and Aquarius are already arguing." He muttered, prompting smiles and quiet laughter from the Magi surrounding them. 

Mycroft shook his head. Disgraceful! The meeting had not even started and they were already at each other's throats. Sure fire and water were not supposed to get along but the latest representatives on the council had made it their personal mission to hate one another and took the oppotunity whenever they met to insult one another. It was already becoming something of a joke and a lot of Magi turned up early just to see what the two of them would say to one another. "Well," He replied, making sure to keep his voice low. The last thing he wanted was for Cinder or Aquarius to actually hear him. "They'd better shut up before..." 

Too late. With a roar of sound a purple fog descended on the table, momentarily obscuring its occupants from view. A murmur swept around the chamber as Magi sat up a little straighter and made an effort to brush toast crumbs from the front of their robes. This meeting really must be important if 'he' had decided to show his face. Even Cinder and Aquarius fell silent out of respect for the stooped figure now appearing from the rapidly vanishing mist. Older than anyone present and twice as volatile as a fire Magi, Hiashi, was the last of an ancient Magi tribe that had long ago been prosecuted into extinction. Once he was gone the nobile traditions of the spirit Magi would fade into nothingness. 

Sitting cross legged in the middle off the table Hiashi slammed the end of his stick down on the table, which was entirely unnecessary since nobody was talking. Hiashi always was one for dramatics though. "What the hell are you two arguing about now?" He snapped, turning his head to glare at Aquarius and Cinder, who both found themselves withering beneath his glowing purple eyes. Though Hiashi might look old and frail he was more than capable of looking after himself in a fight. He was not a Magi you would want to get on the wrong side of. 

"Nothing of any importance." Cinder grumbled quietly, annoyed to be treated like a small child who needed telling off. Opposite him on the south side of the table Aquarius nodded her head in agreement. 

Hiashi peered at them closely from beneath bushy white eyebrows. Then, apparently satisfied with what he saw, he threw his arms out wide to either side and began the meeting. Traditionally a spirit Magi always opened proceedings and nobody had any idea what would happen when Hiashi was no longer around to fill that role. One of these days they really needed to have a meeting about it. "Greetings Magi of water, fire, earth and air. We are gathered here today within the Sacred Heart of Magi power..." 

Sherlock never paid attention to Hiashi's opening speech if he could help it and considered it a now pointless tradition that should have dropped a long time ago. Not only was it incredibly outdated it also never changed, meaning almost all of the Magi present could pratically recite the speech word for word. Sherlock glanced quickly around the room and felt a smile spread across his face. In fact it looked like several were doing just that, smirking slightly as they mouthed along with Hiashi. Magic help them should the spirit Magi catch them doing such a thing- Sherlock could still remember the mysterious plague of headaches that had struck such Magi down at the last meeting. Well at least you couldn't say the council meetings were ever boring. 

Finally, a good five minutes or so later, Hiashi and the rest of the High council got down to the real business of why the Magi had been gathered together. "We have called you here today to discuss a matter of grave importance," Here Hiashi paused for dramatic effect which Sherlock personally felt he dragged out a little too long to be acceptable, "We have received reports that the Modern Magi are trying to come across the river again. Apparently not content with the land we allow them on the Isle of Dogs and around the Banking District they have decided to try and expand their boundaries again. We are here to discuss how best to discourage them." 

The chamber echoed with cries and shouts as Magi loudly proclaimed their displeasure and outrage towards this news with many of them turning to argue loudly with whoever was next to them. Sherlock and Mycroft exchanged a long look, already assuming this meeting was probably going to end up being an exceptionally long one. Mycroft could only hope Lestrade would have the patience to wait around because he didn't want things to end the way they had. Gazing round at the other Magi in their traditional robes shouting at each other in what was rapidly becoming a tradition in itself, Mycroft wondered quietly to himself whether being exiled might not actually be a good thing. It would certainly make for a quieter life and if it meant he could be with Greg... He was shaken from his thoughts when the earth Magi next to him elbowed him in the ribs. Mycroft let out a yelp and rounded on them, intending to demand what the hell they wanted. He was surprised when he found himself confronted by a young looking Magi who barely looked to have reached his twentieth year. This must pratically be his first ever council meeting! Seconds later this theory of Mycroft's was confirmed when the Magi asked him why it was so bad the Modern Magi wanted to come across the river. Mycroft sighed heavily. How on earth was he supposed to explain a feud that went as far back as the Industrial Revolution? As it turned out he didn't have to because Sherlock leant across and answered the question. 

"The Modern Magi and the Elementals have never got on very well. They don't like us and we don't like them. They believe us to be old fashioned and stuck in the past while we see them as a threat to our very existence. The Thames has always been the boundary line between our two territories but for some reason they always feel the need to stop across it." Sherlock explained quickly before he leant back again, not wanting to be drawn into any of the discussions going on around him. He had never been able to understand why they couldn't come to some arrangement with the Modern Magi- it would certainly solve a lot of pointless fighting... Sherlock started when Mycroft elbowed him in the side and he turned his attention back to the high council in time to see Hiashi sending out a blast of power into all corners of the room. Immediatly a heavy silence fell over the room. 

Hiashi glared round at the assembled Magi. "If you have all quite finished squabbling, Aquarius has an idea she would like to put to the chamber." He said, his quiet, yet surprisingly powerful voice carrying easily. "Go ahead Aquarius, the table is yours." He then listened patiently as the water Magi outlined her plan for setting up patrols along the banks of the Thames with the help of Zephyr, who was the high council representative for the air Magi. Once she had finished Hiashi nodded slowly. "Very good. You can be out early warning system and give us time to form a counter attack should we need to. Rowan. Cinder- what do you propose to do?" 

Sherlock sat up a little straighter, curious to hear what Cinder planned to do. He was the most dangerous of the four council members and being unpredictable was somewhat of a speciality for him. Cinder was also the one who kept insisting they should just say sod it and start an all out war against the Modern Magi because that was the only way they were going to get rid of them. This was a proposition that, thankfully, the other other council members kept shooting down on the grounds that too many humans would end up getting caught in the crossfire. which really wasn't fair to them. Sherlock however had a very different reason to be concerned about Cinder's plan. It could literally end up changing his entire life. 

Cinder cleared his throat and began to speak. "To go in with Aquarius and Zephyr's idea, I was thinking of summoning fire hounds to patrol the streets to sniff out any Modern Magi who may have snuck across the river to scout out the area. Rowan could do the same with the wilder areas of London such as the parks." he said, a grin spreading across his face when he heard rumbles of assent from all around the closely packed ranks of blue, red, green and white. He looked so smug in fact that Sherlock found he simply could not hold his tongue any longer. 

Ignoring Mycroft's attempts to tug him back down again Sherlock stood and loudly cleared his throat. All eyes in the chamber turned towards him and Mycroft slumped down as far as he could without falling off the bench completly. This was just like his little brother who never had learned when he should keep his mouth shut. God only knew what he was up to this time. No one spoke out against Cinder, unless they had a sudden desire to have their eyebrows burnt off. This could only go badly. 

Without a single trace of fear Sherlock looked Cinder directly in the eye and asked, "What about the electricity Magi?" 

Cinder's eyes blazed a brilliant red and smoke drifted up from where his hands rested on the surface of the table. "And why would you be so interested in them earth Magi?" He asked in a voice that was little more than a growl. He couldn't decide whether the Magi was suicidal or merely incredibly stupid. Nobody had ever dared question him before. 

Sensing that things were rapidly spiralling out of control Rowan stood and made his way around the table so he could lay a hand on Cinder's shoulder. "It's a reasonable question. Most of the electricity Magi have never shown an interest in our feud and it isn't fair to lump them in with the rest of the Modern Magi." He said, glancing over at the earth section of the hall to see who had been so foolish to speak. He almost groaned aloud when he saw who was standing there. Of course it just had to be Sherlock Holmes. "Forgive him for speaking out of turn." All Rowan could do was hope Sherlock kept his mouth shut. Cinder was on edge as it was and it would not take much to push him over. 

Everyone present waited with bated breath for Cinder' s answer, expecting something dramatic. They were therefore disappointed when the he didn't throw a fireball at the earth Magi and instead, somehow, managed to hold his temper in check. "The electricity Magi on our side of the river will be left alone so long as they show no inclination of joining the Modern Magi." He said before he very deliberately turned his back on Sherlock in order to face Aquarius once again. "So, you think you can handle the responsibility of patrolling the Thames." Cinder asked the High Magi for water with a unpleasant grin on his face. "After all, if you screw up we could all die." 

Sherlock let out a breath and tuned out the argument that was slowly brewing amongst the members of the High Council. Thank earth for that. It was one less thing he would have to worry about. He couldn't wait to get home and tell John- though he would leave out the part where he'd risked life and limb to get the answer. Feeling slightly shaky he sat again, only for his brother to tug urgently on his sleeve. He sighed heavily. "Yes Mycroft, I know how stupid that was. You don't need to tell me." 

Down below, much to the delight of everyone present, Aquarius and Cinder began shouting at one another again. Mycroft resisted the temptation to take a quick look and tugged on Sherlock's robe again. "That isnt what I wanted to say. I just wanted to point out that that," Here he paused and gestured towards table where Aquarius was making it rain above Cinder's head, "is probably our cue to be going. They won't be discussing anything else now those two have started arguing again. 

"But we don't know what area we'll be given to patrol." Sherlock protested. He was hoping they might be given Kensington Gardens, which was definitely one of the nicer parks to patrol. Not only was it clean and orderly but the plants were some of the most well mannered in London. In some of the wilder, unkempt areas you were liable to get sworn at or tripped up by the more unfriendly shrubs. 

While his little brother did have a good point, Mycroft knew it would be ages before the meeting could be called back to any sort of order and he was all too aware he had probably kept Greg waiting long enough. It was time to face him and make a decision. "I'm sure Rowan will send us a scroll once the high council has had a chance to talk through the details of their plan..." His voice trailed when he realised Sherlock was watching him with a knowing smile on his face. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?" 

Sherlock's smile grew wider. "Go home Mycroft. Go and sort things out with Greg. I'll stay here and see what happens." He paused, looked down at the high council and shook his head. By the looks of it he was going to be here a while but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make for his brother. He just wished he had thought to bring some case files with him. He hated sitting round wasting time when there were other things he could be doing. 

Grateful, Mycroft bowed his head before carefully making his way back along the bench towards the transportation area where he and Sherlock had arrived. No one showed any interest in his departure- something for which he was glad. Magi never left in the middle of the meeting where there was a chance of a duel between two council members and people would almost certainly have asked questions. Keeping secrets from your fellow Magi was almost impossible. Then with a final glance around him to make sure nobody was looking- which was highly unlikely considering Aquarius and Cinder were practically at each other's throats- he took a deep breath and vanished from the chamber. 

Seconds later Mycroft was standing in his dressing room expecting Greg to be there to greet him. To his disappointment the room was empty. Maybe he had been called back to Scotland Yard... but if that were the case why was he feeling so uneasy? 

Slowly and methodically, not really knowing what he was looking for, Mycroft did a circuit of the room as he tried to figure out what was wrong. It did not take him long. When he finally spotted it he froze and swore loudly. The wall to the right of the door, previously an unbroken expanse of white paint, was now stained with the black, soot like outline of the Magi who had somehow managed to penetrate his inner sanctum. He must have forgotten to set up his usual forcefields when he left. Not all that surprising when his head had been all over the place. Still, it was an unforgivable lapses in judgement that could have cost him dearly. 

Swearing again he rested his hand against the wall and squinted at the outline in an attempt to work out what the Modern Magi might have wanted. It appeared to be reaching forward, it's fingers open as though about to grab something... dread settled heavily in Mycroft's stomach. He had a horrible feeling he knew exactly what might have happened here- that he had made a careless mistake and Greg was the one who had paid for it. And if that wasn't bad enough Mycroft lived four and a half miles away from the river Thames. If a graffiti Magi had managed to make it this far inland... He needed to warn the high council right away! 

Mycroft took a step forward, intending to transport back to the Sacred Heart Chamber, but before he could even think about summoning his power a scrawled message appeared on the wall in an ominous red ink that looked uncomfortably like blood. Mycroft didn't think it was but with graffiti Magi you could never be one hundred per cent certain. They could be alarmingly sadistic when they wanted to be. 

'Battersea Power Station. 2:00. Come alone or the human dies,' read the simple yet effective message. 

Mycroft sank to his knees and buried his head in his hands. What by earth was he supposed to do now? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you are enjoying/have enjoyed the second instalment of 'Under your spell'. Thanks for reading if you've managed to make it this far. :)


	3. The first move

Sherlock watched his brother leave with a look of sympathy on his face. He hoped Mycroft would manage to fix the relationship between himself and Lestrade. Even though he had only seen them together for a brief moment it had been obvious how much they much they meant to one another. Sherlock knew what it was like to feel so deeply about someone. A small smile twitched up the corner of his mouth. He didn't think many of the Magi surrounding him could say the same. Elemental courtship tended to be a long and drawn out affair and public displays of affection were frowned upon. Personally Sherlock had always found it to be incredibly boring. Maybe the Modern Magi had the right idea when they called them old fashioned. 

With a sigh Sherlock crossed his arms across his chest and stared up at the ceiling. For the love of earth please let Cinder and Aquarius stop arguing! He had promised John he would be home for dinner but at this rate he would still be here tomorrow morning! Around him the other Magi had long since started talking amongst themselves, slowly growing bored with the lack of progress. All the high council needed to do now was allocate areas to patrol so they could all go home. Many of the Magi were disappointed the meeting didn't look like it was going to escalate into a full on fight. It was the only reason many of them turned up anymore. Even Rowan and Zephyr appeared to be growing tired of their fellow council members... 

Then, without any warning, the Sacred Heart Chamber was rocked by what sounded very much like a muffled explosion from somewhere high above them. There was cries of alarm from the benches but it wasn't enough to break up the argument between Cinder and Aquarius. Sure they paused mid sentence but then they simply carried on as though it was nothing! Sherlock eyed the ceiling uneasily, expecting to see cracks spreading across the ancient stone. What on earth had that been? While terrorist attacks were not uncommon within the city (there had been three in the last month alone), they were never this close to the high council chamber. With all the protective spells and forcefields in place humans, in theory, wouldn't even be able to get within a mile- or at least that was how it was supposed to work 

All around Sherlock Magi were shifting in their seats, some of them getting up and heading for the transportation areas to travel somewhere safer, somewhere with a re-enforced ceiling. Others had pulled scrolls from their pockets and were frantically writing messages of warning or ones to try and find out what the hell was going on. Sherlock stood and glanced down at the high council. He knew he had told Mycroft he'd stay for the entire meeting but he needed to know what was going on up on street level. It could be nothing but his detective instincts were screaming at him that something wasn't right. He wouldn't be happy until he had gone and taken a look. 

Just as Sherlock was standing up there was a second, even closer, explosion that sent him staggering sideways into the Magi beside him. They barely reacted, their concentration instead focused on the basic shielding spell that made his skin look like it was covered with a fine coating of leaves. The second explosion also, finally, put a stop to the argument between Aquarius and Cinder. Forgetting about one another they began issuing instructions to their Magi, telling most to head to safety while the guards and warriors remained behind to find out what was going on. 

Nobody was listening to Hiashi who was standing atop the table and calling for the Magi to listen to him- that there was no need to panic. The explosions were probably nothing more then the humans fighting amongst themselves again. Sherlock, like many of the others, wasn't convinced and quickly gathered his power around him, transporting to a place on the street just outside the underground chambers that had been home to the Elemental high council for thousands of years. This though was the first time in Magi history anything like this had happened. 

Sherlock stared in disbelief at the group assembled in the shadow of a nearby building and tried to make sense of what he was seeing. Why hadn't the alarms gone off? There was no way so many Modern Magi should have managed to stray so far from the river and they definitely should not have made it within mere feet of the Elemental council chamber. Sherlock could only assume something had gone wrong. 

One of the Modern Magi, a metal if the silver veins running along his hands were anything to go by, spotted Sherlock standing there and let out a shout to alert the others. Damn it! He should have transported away the moment he saw them. It was too late now because another of the Magi was already throwing a hand out towards him as they cast a hasty spell. 

Instinctively, without thinking, Sherlock threw up a shield that patterned his skin with delicate flower petals. Unfortunately he was a fraction too slow to stop the shards of glass thrown by a rubbish Magi from piercing his skin in a dozen places. Letting out a cry of shock at the sudden burning pain Sherlock pressed a hand to his cheekbone, gingerly touching the shard that had only just missed his eye. Warm blood oozed from the wound and trickled down his cheek. Mycroft was always lecturing him about improving his reaction times when it came to casting spells. A slow Magi was a dead Magi according to his older brother and Sherlock had to admit he had a point. That had been entirely too close. 

The rubbish Magi let out a shrill laugh and linked her fingers together in preparation of another spell. "Oh. What a shame! I expected his blood to be green." She said, actually sounding a little disappointed. Sherlock wrinkled his nose in disgust despite the discomfort when the movement tugged the glass shard beneath his eye. That was so typical of the Modern Magi. 

The metal Magi who had pointed Sherlock out in the first place clapped her on the shoulder and let out a laugh. "Bless you Sophie. Everyone knows that's just a rumour. They die just as easily as the humans do." He said, a grin spreading across his face. "Though we don't want to kill this one just yet." 

Sherlock felt a shiver run down his spine, closely followed by a wave of weakness. He tried to say something but ended up coughing instead, doubling over and spitting out a mouthful of blood. As he reached up to wipe the back of his hand across his lips he felt alarm bubble up. Dreading what he might see he looked down and winced when he saw the shard of glass embedded in his right side beneath his armpit. Blood pulsed from the wound in a steady stream, indicating the glass had almost certainly pieced something vital. Now he was aware of it he could feel a numbing weakness spreading through his body. He swore quietly to himself. Rubbish Magi, due to the natural uncleanliness of their Magi, had a nasty tendency of infecting people with nasty bacteria. Sherlock hung his head. He needed to get out of here before things could get any worse. 

The Modern Magi came a little closer and Sherlock stumbled back, his back colliding with the door behind him. He let out a cry when the impact sent pain coursing through every part of his body. It was getting difficult to remain upright, difficult to think and he knew that all too soon he would be unable to do anything. He needed to get out of here! But then... He hesitated and took a deep breath, trying to steady himself so he could at least concentrate enough to make a decision. He needed to warn the high council that the Modern Magi were here. 

Normally sending a message would be simple but in his current, extremely weakened state it took almost all of his remaining strength to summon enough power to send a telepathic message to Rowan. It wasn't much, simply a cry of 'run' and an image of the group standing in the street outside. He could only hope it would be enough to get the message across. Once the spell was finished Sherlock collapsed to his knees and coughed up another mouthful of blood, his vision momentarily going a little fuzzy around the edges. 

The Modern Magi when they saw Sherlock fall and they all took a step forward, intending to surround the detective and finish him off at their leisure. In their society drawing first blood was considered a honour and kicking an opponent when they were already down was actively encouraged. It did not do to have a soft heart or a weak will if you were a Modern Magi and those that did quickly fell by the wayside. 

Sherlock coughed again and tried to ignore the blood now constantly dribbling down his chin. The glass must have done more damage than he originally though. The one beneath his eye was beginning to feel as though his entire head was pounding. He swallowed hard and tried to take a breath. To his horror he found himself unable to, instead choking up blood. Alarm turned to full on panic as he realised the glass in his side must have punctured one of his lungs. He needed to get out of here! 

Gritting his teeth Sherlock summoned what little energy he had left and prepared himself to cast one final spell. All he needed to do was get back to Baker Street. Once he was home and safe he knew everything would be alright. John would know what to do. 

Sensing the gathering magic and guessing what Sherlock intended to do the metal Magi let out a shout of 'don't let him get away!' but it was already too late for them to do anything. There was nothing the Modern Magi could do but watch in helpless rage as Sherlock disappeared in a swirl of flowers that were definitely looking a little wilted. 

"Damn it!" The metal Magi cursed, his grey eyes flashing as he rounded on the rubbish Magi, reaching out to grab a handful of her black, almost oily looking robes. "I thought you said you were good at incapacitating people Sophie." He spat, his expression murderous. He couldn't believe they had let an earth Magi get away! They were supposed to be the weakest of the Elemental Magi. "At bleeding them out enough so they have no energy to cast spells!" 

The rubbish Magi cringed back, trying to make herself as small as possible to try and hide for the wrath of the metal Magi. She knew she had screwed up- big time. “I’m sorry but I did my best. There’s no way he should have been able to cast a transportation spell with wounds like that.” She protested, frowning in confusion as she tried to work out what might have happened. “I have no idea how he could have managed it!” 

There was silence for a moment as they all processed this. It was something they would have to investigate later to try and find out what has happened. For now, though they needed to concentrate on getting into the Elemental council chambers. That was the reason they were here after all. With an unpleasant grin spreading across his face the metal Magi reached into the pocket of his silver robes and pulled out a grenade, arming it with a click of his fingers. In theory it should be easy. The Elementals were not known for putting up much of a fight and tended to rely on the creatures they could summon. 

The metal Magi made to throw the grenade but paused long enough to glance round at the little group arranged around him, all of them staring at the very solid looking doors before them. “Ready?” He asked, his grin growing a little wider when everyone present gave a confident nod and threw up shields to protect them from what they knew was coming. “Good.” The metal Magi said, tossing the grenade towards the door. 

There was the muffled whump of an explosion and the door imploded inwards in a cloud of dust and deadly shards of wood, leaving the way clear for the Modern Magi to simply walk right in. They walked forward cautiously, half expecting to come up against some type of hidden defence that would go off the moment they crossed the threshold. Their own council chambers across the river were basically a high-tech and almost impenetrable fortress filled with nasty traps for the unwary intruder and they expected some form of natural barrier- plant warriors or water spirits or something similar. They were therefore disappointed when they were met with no resistance whatsoever. It was like the Elementals were asking for their council chambers to be broken into. They were well known for being arrogant but could they really be so complacent in their unwavering belief that no Modern Magi would ever set foot in the Sacred Heart Chamber? It was a complacency they were going to end up paying dearly for. It was kind of exciting to think of the Elemental Magi sat there with no idea of what was about to come bursting through their front door. 

Finally, they reached the great carved doors of the chamber itself and paused briefly to savour the moment, still unable to believe they were within touching distance of hundreds of their ancient enemy. The metal Magi stood up a little straighter. His father was going to be so proud of him when he arrived, which should be quite soon because at least five minutes had passed since he sent off a message to him. 

Beside him a wicked grin spread across the rubbish Magi’s face as she rolled up the sleeves of her black robes, the material shimmering like oil when it caught the light of the nearby fire lamp. “Well, let’s get this over with, shall we? I for one can’t wait to see the looks on their faces.” She said before reaching out to push open the doors with enough force to send them rebounding off the walls with a deafening crash. That would probably get everyone’s attention. 

As it turned out though there was not much of a welcome committee- Hiashi having mass transported out the last of the stragglers who were having trouble thinking straight in their panic. Not that the spirit Magi could really blame them. Casting spells was a complicated business relying on energy and a clear, focused mind, without these things it was almost impossible to cast magic. The Modern Magi felt their confidence shrink a little. This was not what they had had in mind when they imagined this moment on the street outside. They had expected to find themselves faced with a council meeting in progress and instead found nobody but the five members of the high council arranged around a circular wooden table, all of whom were more than ready to fight after receiving Sherlock’s warning in plenty of time. Rowan had tried to send a message back but had not been able to get a signal, a fact that was still troubling him even now. He could only hope the earth Magi was ok. Sherlock could be annoying at times because of his habit of doing his own thing and not listening to his high Magi, but he was also a useful link to the human world. As the only consulting detective in Britain he was well known amongst the humans, making him a sort of unofficial poster Magi for his kind. 

The metal Magi swore beneath his breath. This was not how this was supposed to go. At least, for now, it appeared that only the high council were here… He spotted a flash of red and orange, and peered closer to find Cinder had already summoned several fire hounds, huge wolf sized creatures made from constantly shifting fire. He shook his head and let out a resigned sigh. Well, like it or not, it was too late to back out now. They would be a laughing stock if his father arrived and discovered they had gotten this far only to turn tail and run. A shiver ran down his spine. His life would not be worth living if that happened. 

Sensing their unease Hiashi slammed his stick against the ground, sending out a pulse of energy strong enough to send the Modern Magi staggering back a step. “I will give you one chance to turn and walk away.” The spirit Magi snapped, the years seeming to slip away from him as he summoned his power for the fight he was sure was coming. Behind him, weaving around the legs of their creator, Cinder’s fire hounds let out threatening growls, fiery drool dripping from between their razor, sharp teeth. 

The metal Magi swallowed and crossed his arms, not wanting to show how much he was shaking. Surely by now his father had to on his way- right? All they needed to do was hold out until he arrived. “We have no fear of you, Hiashi. You’re nothing but a relic who no longer belongs in their world.” He taunted, the silvery veins running beneath his skin beginning to glow. He didn’t really have a spell in mind but hoped it might have some effect on the spirit Magi. His heart sank when Hiashi began to laugh, obviously seeing right through his attempts to appear confident. 

Hiashi shook his head. Why did the Modern Magi always send younglings to do their dirty work? It was, frankly, a little insulting that the high council never bothered to come themselves. Shaking his head, he turned to address Cinder. “Well, I did try to warn them.” He said with a small nod of his head. 

Cinder grinned back at him, knowing exactly what Hiashi wanted him to do. Putting his fingers in his mouth he let out a piercing whistle. The fire hounds instantly leaped into action with loud snarls, bounding forward at a speed that no normal animal could have achieved and surrounding the modern Magi. Rather than being scared the rubbish Magi smirked and flung out a hand, intending to cast a spell that would rip the hounds apart, but to her horror nothing happened- not even a single jolt of power flowing through her. She tried again. Still nothing. What the hell was going on? Panic flooding through her she turned to the metal Magi with real fear shining from her eyes. “Steel, what do we do now?” She asked, her throat dry. Unlike him, she and the others had no idea help was, hopefully, on its way. 

The metal Magi, Steel, ignored her however and glared at Hiashi instead, assuming the stifling of their magic had to be his doing. Only spirit Magi could affect such things, which was partially the reason why the Modern Magi had hunted them to near extinction- nobody wanted to go up against such a dangerous and deadly opponent. A fight with a spirit Magi was hardly ever fair and more than one Magi had found themselves far outmatched. 

Steel cleared his throat and did his best of look intimidating, not easy when he was shaking like a lamp post in a winter storm. “Just wait until my dad gets here. He’ll…” He paused, unable to think of a convincing enough threat. Luckily there was someone on hand to help him. 

“He’ll make you regret any harm that may have come to his son.” Said a voice that was oddly threatening despite the calmness of its tone. Many Magi had been caught out by it in the past and all of them had paid dearly for their mistake. “I see Cinder has put iron collars on those dogs of his. A clever move but one I’m afraid that fails against me.” 

Steel stared at his father, trying to understand what he was saying. Iron collars? But surely, he would have been able to sense them? Unless… He glanced at Hiashi to find the spirit Magi smirking back at him. No, he couldn’t work it out. It simply did not make any sense to him. “Father, we managed to get into the Elemental council chamber.” He said eagerly, seeking some sort of praise for his achievement. 

With almost silent steps his father walked over to him and clapped him on the shoulder. “I can see that, Steel. You’ve done well.” He said before turning to face the Elemental high council. “Now, what are we going to do with you?” He asked softly, a nasty smile spreading across his face as he said it. He took a step forward and the other two members of the Modern high council moved with him. 

Hiashi gripped his stick tightly. “You realise this breaks all truces that exist between us. Once this gets out it will be considered as an act of war.” He said, his voice steady as he attempted to defuse the situation. Things could get rapidly out of hand and he had already seen too much blood shed. If he could he would like to prevent any more from happening. But, sadly, from the look in Steel’s eyes he didn’t think there was any chance of a friendly chat any time soon. He let out a sigh and prepared himself to fight. From this moment on nothing was ever going to be the same again. 


	4. A worrying development

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter gets a little strange while the Ancients are introduced (characters that don't exist in my original draft. Apparently this story has a life of its own). Bear with me- the action will be returning to Baker Street soon.
> 
> I'm doing my best with updates but I have a ton of work for university at the moment so new chapters might be a bit erratic. I promise that I'll try and do my best.

The scent of blood was heavy in the air, accompanied by a steadily growing tension that crackles like electricity through the bones of an ancient creature slumbering deep below London. The threat of war was not enough to weaken it fully but it's dreams were strange and violent, filled with screams and the flash of multicoloured spells being cast between two vast armies. The creature knew what this meant; the centuries old truce between the Elemental and Modern Magi was coming to an end. 

The creatures's deep breathing faltered as it slowly and reluctantly clawed its way up from several millennia of sleep. It had been too long since the last time it was awake during the great war between the stone and bronze Magi, a war responsible for bringing about a huge change in the world. The creature smiled sleeping. Now that had been a wonderful time where it had been able to roam freely doing whatever it wanted as it fed upon the destruction of the battlefields. And now, once again, the creature's time had come. 

Carefully, not wanting to alert the Magi to its presence just yet, the creature opened eyes nearly as black as the darkness surrounding it. There was still relative silence as it cocked its head to one side and listened, breathing in the sickly iron tang of blood that seemed to be everywhere. The creature licked its lips and bared sharp fangs in a smile. The first blood of the battle had been spilled- from now on there would be no turning back for fate was already unravelling. There was now nothing anybody could do to stop it. 

The creature paused in its thoughts and listened intently. Had that been a cry of pain it just heard? There- faint but definitely audible. It was too quiet to be a death cry or part of a battle but the creature was never the less intrigued. It could not hurt to go and have a look. 

Rising up from the darkness it called home the creature climbed up the levels of reality until it reached the human place and slithered out onto a street where an interesting scene was being played out. Four Modern Magi had cornered an Earth Magi, who was bleeding heavily from a dozen or so nasty wounds obviously inflicted by one of the rubbish Magi. Well that explained the cry of pain the creature had heard. 

Despite his injuries and the pain he must be in the earth Magi faced his attackers without any trace of fear. The creatures watched him with interest, admiring his strength in the face of such odds. He could prove to be an interesting player in the later stages of the battle to come and the creature found itself wanting to see just what the earth Magi was capable of. Which meant that it would be a waste if he should die here on the street. Unseen and unnoticed the creature reached forward and gave the Magi the tiny bit of energy he needed to transport away, much to the rage of the Modern Magi who immediately started shouting at one another. The creature laughed quietly to itself. 

"Oh dear brother. Has our long slumber made your heart go soft?" Asked a voice from beside the creature with obvious amusement. 

The creature rolled it's eyes and turned its serpentine head so it could look at the thing beside it. "Hello, Death. I was wondering when you would turn up." It said, gazing into a pair of eyes as black as its own. 

Like the first creature, Death was dark and sinuous, a constantly shifting mass of darkness and red glowing light. Unlike the first creature however, Death had a pair of massive wings stretching above its head. It bared its fangs in a grin. "I wasn't about to miss an event like this, Destruction." 

The first creature, Destruction, let out a low laugh. "It has been a while since the last we were awake. And to answer your question I am not going soft, little sister. I was merely sparing his life out of scientific curiosity. It is rare to see someone so calm in the face of death. He could prove interesting later on." 

Death stared back, considering this for a moment. "But you also managed to do me out of a meal. You owe me Destruction." 

The two creatures fell silent as they watched the Modern Magi breaking down the door leading to the Sacred Heart Chamber of the Elementals. When the grenade went off Destruction breathed in deeply, absorbing the energy caused by the blast. "Mmmm, lovely." It murmured, it's eyes flashing red before fading back to black again. 

Death ignored it and looked thoughtfully at the gaping black hole where the door had been. There were still tendrils of smoke drifting up from the charred chunks of scattered wood. "What do we do now Brother? Follow the Modern Magi or stand back and wait for the real battle to begin?" It asked. When there was no answer Death looked round to find Destruction staring at the spot where the earth Magi had vanished. "Are you sure you haven't gone soft?" It asked, only half joking. Destruction had always been the odd one out amongst the Ancients. 

Destruction snorted in anger and snapped its fangs together, as though it wanted to sink them into Death's neck. "Follow the Modern Magi or don't sister. I really couldn't care less what you decide to do." It growled, reaching out with a clawed hand and tearing a hole in the fabric of the world (one of the easiest and quickest ways to travel if you were an Ancient and wanted to remain hidden). 

"Let me guess- you're going to follow the earth Magi, aren't you?" Death asked as it stalked forward, it's claws silent against the tarmac of the road. Though a Magi might feel the hairs on the back of the neck stand on end they wouldn't be able to see the Ancients until they choose to reveal themselves- which wouldn't be until the final battle when the rest of the Ancients had shown up. 

Something resembling a shrug rippled along Destruction's serpentine body. "The real excitement hasn't started yet. I'm not needed here and I thought it could be fun. I'm also interested to see how the Magi gets himself out of the mess he was in. There's a still a chance he may die from his injuries." 

Death remained silent, it's facial expression clearly showing how much it disapproved of its brother's plan, and watched Destruction as it disappeared behind the scenes of the world, places no human or Magi would ever tred. It let out a sigh. Destruction did have a point. There was nothing to do now but wait for things to escalate. There was still a way to go before the two sides would meet in battle. All Death could do was watch and hope that Destruction knew what it was doing. It would be such a shame for things to go wrong now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter five will get uploaded on Wednesday because I have classes over the next two days. Thank you for your continued patience whoever has stuck with the story this far and I hope you enjoy the direction it's taking. 
> 
> Please feel free to leave a comment. :)


	5. Back to Baker Street

John hadn't had the flat to himself in ages, not since the last Elemental council meeting in fact, and he had to admit he was enjoying the peace and quiet. While he dearly loved Sherlock it was nice having some alone time, even if the plants on the mantlepiece kept waving their leaves as though they were trying to get his attention. John ignored them, much to the annoyance of the plants, and headed into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. Switching on the kettle with a click of his fingers he smiled and found himself considering the extraordinary life he had accidentally stumbled into. He had never imagined he would find love and couldn't have predicted in his wildest dreams that he would fall for Sherlock Holmes the earth Magi. Since the moment he had rescued the detective from a sticky situation involving a graffiti Magi his life has changed for the better. 

Well at least his love life was perfect. He let out a heavy sigh and tugged at the wide sleeves of his yellow robe. If only the outside world could be so peaceful, without all this troubling news about rising intentions between the Elemental and Modern Magi. His kind had the right idea in John's opinion. Since the Electricity Magi technically belonged to both tribes they stayed out of the fighting because of their reluctance to choose a side. John was personally happy to go wherever Sherlock did. 

A sound from the living room caught John's attention and he lightly tapped the kettle to briefly switch it off so he listen more closely. He had thought that was what he heard- the familiar and welcome singing that accompanied one of Sherlock's transportation spells. He glanced over at the clock and frowned. The council meeting must have been shorter than Sherlock was expecting. Not that John minded. One of the things he liked about being an Electricity Magi was that he basically got to do his own thing, which meant that, thankfully, he didn't have to turn up to meetings where, according to Sherlock anyway, nothing important or useful ever happened. 

With a smile on his face he turned to call over his shoulder, "Hey! You're home earlier than you thought. I haven't had time to put dinner on yet." Then he busied himself pouring hot water into two mugs so he could carry them through to the living room. It had been cold outside today and he was sure Sherlock would appreciate the hot drink. 

When his greeting was met by silence John found himself growing worried, which was ridiculous because this would not be the first time Sherlock had ignored him. Still there was something making him feel uneasy, though he was unable to put his finger on what exactly that might be. "Sherlock?" He called again, sending out a pulse of power at the same time- trying to sense the electrical impulses every living creature gave off. If something was wrong the spell would pick up on it. Sure enough the echo John received back was alarming, faint and weak enough to indicate something had obviously gone badly wrong at the meeting. His heart beat a little faster and he found himself beginning to panic. If there was something John Watson was afraid of, it was the thought of Sherlock getting hurt. 

In his haste to rush into the other room John made to set the mugs down on the worktop, missed it completly and didn't even notice when they shattered on the floor, spilling tea and splattering it halfway up the cupboards. All he could focus on was running into the living room without tripping over boxes of scientific equipment and breaking his neck. No matter how many times he asked Sherlock to tidy them away, the earth Magi just seemed to willfuly ignore him. John was sure they were going to cause a serious injury one of these days... All such thoughts were driven from John's head when he saw the sight that greeted him. He froze, an icy terror oozing through his veins and the world spun sickenly around him. Sherlock was lying on the floor in front of the fireplace, unmoving and bleeding heavily from what appeared to be a dozen or so stab wounds, stab wounds inflicted by dirt streaked shards of glass. 

John's terror morphed into a red hot anger. Nobody but a rubbish Magi could have done this and he swore the one responsible would pay for what they had done... Right now though there were more troubling things to consider. How had Sherlock been attacked by a rubbish Magi when he should have been safe within the Sacred Heart Chamber where no modern Magi, as far as John knew anyway, could ever set foot. Before he could dwell on the thought any longer however Sherlock let out a pained groan and raised his head slightly. John sank to his knees beside him and carefully cradled his head in his lap. He sucked in a breath when he saw the glass shard that had only just missed one of the blue eyes he loved so much. 

John felt tears sting his eyes. By spark and wire what had happened at that meeting? He reached down and gripped one of Sherlock's hands tightly in his own. "It's going to be alright. I'll get you fixed up in no time." John said quietly, laying a hand on the glass shard embedded in Sherlock's side. This was by far the worst of his injuries, giving Sherlock's breathing nasty bubbling sound as, every so often, blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. If John didn't heal this wound quickly there was a very real possibility that Sherlock could die. Panic flared up to accompany the thought but John pushed it to one side. He was going to need all his available concentration if he was going to pull this off. 

Unlike the spirit Magi, electricity Magi did not have it half so easy when it came to healing people. Unlike the simple, instantaneous work of the spirit Magi that easily knitted bone, skin and muscle back together, electricity Magi could only tap into the electrical impulses of the brain and try to persuade it to heal itself a little quicker. But without spirit Magi there was no one else able to cast such complex spells. 

Knowing it would cause Sherlock pain but having any other choice, John laid a hand against Sherlock's forehead, summoned his power and then started, agonisingly slowly, to pull the glass shard from his side millimetre by millimetre. It would take a while to heal a wound of this severity and John leant back against the chair, trying to make himself comfortable. 

Half an hour passed like this without either John or Sherlock really being aware time was even passing, the silence occasionally interrupted by quiet whimper of pain from Sherlock as his broken body knitted itself back together. John was aware of them but couldn't break off in the middle of the spell to comfort him. He was uncomfortably aware of the pervading exhaustion creeping around the edges of his senses and threatening to drag him down. 

Eventually, at least an hour and a half later, John breathed in deeply and turned his attention to the wound beneath Sherlock's eye. The side wound was as healed as John could get it and was now a raw red scar that would eventually fade. His heart sank a little. Though the side wound, and the fact it had punctured a lung, had been deep and tricky to heal the eye wound was, if possible, even more complicated due to where it was and what it could cost Sherlock if he screwed it up. John's eyes were burning with tiredness and he reached up to wrap the back of his hand across them. But the knowledge that Sherlock's breathing sounded steadier and his cheeks now had some colour in them made the effort he had expended more than worth it. 

Sherlock was beginning to stir and take notice of his surroundings with a confused frown on his face. He could remember thinking about casting a transportation spell and feeling horror stricken when he realised be would not have the energy to pull it off. Apparently though he must have had enough left to get him back to Baker Street. He gazed up at John and felt a surge of love for the electricity Magi. "John?" He said in a weak sounding voice, squeezing the hand that was gripping his so tightly. 

John's eyes flew open, breaking his concentration and momentarily halting the healing spell he was in the middle of. Sherlock winced as pain flooded back in again and he found himself regretting saying anything. "Oh thank God. You had me worried there for a moment. I thought I'd- I thought-" He stopped, feeling tears welling up and threatening to spill down his cheeks. Swallowing hard he laid his hand on Sherlock's cheek and concentrated on the spell again, needing something to focus on that would not reduce him to tears. He decided to change onto a slightly safer subject. "What by sparks happened to you, Sherlock? You were supposed to be in a council meeting." 

There was silence for a moment while Sherlock waited for another wave of pain to pass. Then he breathed in deeply and prepared himself to tell John that the Modern and Elemental Magi were potentially on the verge of war. "The council chambers were attacked by a group of Moderns- several metals and a rubbish Magi among them. The worst thing is- none of our early warning alarms went off." He said quietly, watching John the entire time and admiring how calm the electricity Magi was being despite the enormity of the news he was being told. It was one of the things that had drawn him to John in the first place. 

"And of course you somehow walked straight into the firing line." John tried to make a joke out of it but the effect was spoilt by the audible shake in his voice. "Where was Mycroft while all this was going on?" He asked, still unable to believe the injuries inflicted on Sherlock. It looked like he would need to teach the earth Magi how to shield faster because it could have been so much worse...sparks shot from the ends of his fingers as his anger began to rise again. If he ever got his hands on those Modern Magi he would pay them back tenfold for what they had done. 

Sherlock let out a sigh and closed his eyes. He was not sure how much John knew about Mycroft and Greg because on more than one occasion the electricity Magi had proved to be amazingly perceptive. He very often seemed to know things without being told. Well, he supposed he would just have to take the risk. "Mycroft returned home. He wanted to speak to Greg after the argument they ended up having. It was probably a good thing he left when he did." Otherwise they could have been two of them bleeding out on the carpets of Baker Street. 

And just as Sherlock suspected John had already guessed what the argument had been about. "Greg found out, didn't he? He knows you and Mycroft are Magi." He said, lightly stroking his fingers across the still healing wound on Sherlock's cheek. It looked a lot better than it did and there was no longer any pressing danger to his sight. John was half tempted to leave it till tomorrow and get a good night's sleep... Of course, at that precise moment, there just had to be a knock on the door. John let out a quiet groan. "Come in." He called when all he really wanted to do was tell them to go away and come back later. But he would never forgive himself if it turned out to be something important. 

John was surprised and a little irritated when the person at the door just turned out to be Mycroft, who burst through the door and skidded to a halt when he saw the state his little brother was in. "By earth! What happened, Sherlock?" He cried as he fell to his knees beside him, his eyes fixed on the bloodstains covering his light green robe. He never should have left that meeting! Sherlock's answer made his stomach churn as he remembered all too clearly the reason he was at Baker Street. "You're sure? There was an attack on the Elemental council chambers." He said, struggling to get his head round the news. When he left the high council had been talking about arranging patrols- which he supposed were useless now the Modern Magi were so far from their side of the river. Mycroft shook his head. "What I'm about to tell you won't make this whole mess any better." He paused long enough to take a deep breath. "Greg's been taken by a graffiti Magi." 

Sherlock tried to sit up when he heard this but quickly gave up when he felt pain shoot through his left arm. He slumped back down and rested his head back on John's lap. "What do you mean he was taken?" He asked, trying not to think of his last encounter with a graffiti Magi. He couldn't help but wonder if it might turn out to be the same way... by earth, he hoped not. 

Mycroft clenched his hands into fists before he answered, but that didn't stop tendrils of ivy growing and writhing around his feet like snakes. The flowers in the fireplace shrank down as far as their terracotta pots would allow them to and prayed Mycroft wouldn't notice them. Mycroft let out a sigh. "I went home from the meeting to find Greg gone, an outline on the wall and message demanding I go to Battersea power station." He hesitated but went on to tell them the rest of the message. "It said I should come alone." He said in a quiet voice, waiting to see how John and Sherlock would react. It had been a difficult decision but he had eventually realised there was no way he could do it alone- not if the graffiti Magi was who he thought it might be. A shiver run down his back and he reached out to take Sherlock's hand. "I didn't know what else to do." 

Sherlock squeezed Mycroft's hand and smiled up at him. John meanwhile had drifted off again, losing himself in the healing spell once again and was unaware of the conversation between the two Holmes brothers. "You did the right thing. There's no way you could have dealt with this on your own." He said softly. "I've grown to like Greg and I know how important he is to you." Besides, Sherlock could not really judge when his own lover was an electricity Magi. "When is the meeting set for exactly?" 

Some of Mycroft's earlier tension and anxiety began to seep away as he breathed a sigh of relief that he had indeed made the right choice. Though he was not sure how much he really wanted to involve Sherlock considering the state he was in. It was incredible to think that the Modern Magi had had the audacity to attack such an important place... He became aware Sherlock was still waiting for his answer and he gave him a sheepish smile. "The message said to be there at two." He said, glancing at the clock, "which apparently only gives us fifteen minutes to come up with a plan." His heart sank a little. Greg's life could depend on what they came up with in the short time avaliable to them. 

Sherlock smiled back at his brother and tried to sit up again, but was pushed back down by John who glared at him with eyes that were glazed with exhaustion. He let out a sigh. "John and I will be going with you of course." He said, ignoring Mycroft's splutters of protest that he was injured and needed to rest. "By the sounds of it you're going to need all the help you can get." He continued, his voice quiet as he laid a hand over John's, which was beginning to shake from the strain of casting such a prolonged spell. 

Knowing there was no point arguing with his little brother Mycroft sat back and stared up at the ceiling. "So what's the-" He never got to finish the end of his sentence however because Sherlock's plants began to frantically wave their leaves and let out a series of high pitched hums. Mycroft looked over at them and then turned to Sherlock to find him listening intently, his head tipped to one side. "What are they saying?" He asked. Sometimes he wished he could understand plants and flowers the way Sherlock could, it would make life so much easier at times. 

Sherlock frowned, not replying for a moment. Then he shook his head and sucked in a breath. "Well, that's a little awkward." He said without thinking, immediately regretting it when he saw the panic on Mycroft's face. Right, remember to think before he spoke. "It's a message from Rowan. All Elemental Magi are being instructed to meet at Trafalgar Square at half past two. The Modern Magi have officially declared war upon us." He said, his face draining of colour. 

"War..." John murmured faintly as he shook his head. The threat of war had been there constantly in the background for ages but for it to have finally arrived was still shocking. It could change everything. His heart beat a little faster. The electricity Magi had avoided picking sides for so long but it looked as though their hand was about to be forced. John swallowed hard and blinked rapidly, trying not to give in to his panic. Life could potentially become very difficult for him and Sherlock depending on what happened next. "What do we do?" He asked, looking over at Mycroft to see how he was taking the news. The older Holmes Brother looked pale and shaken but otherwise seemed ok. 

"If we haven't rescued Greg by half two then we just don't turn up. I doubt Rowan will even notice." Sherlock said with conviction, looking Mycroft directly in the eye as he spoke. "Family comes first." Then he gently disentangled himself from John and slowly stood up. He felt a lot better than he did even if some of the smaller wounds John had not gotten round to were a little uncomfortable. It was something he could easily live with. John needed whatever strength he had left for whatever they were about to face. Graffiti Magi were by far the worst of the Modern's and certainly were not to be underestimated. 

Without another word the three of them clasped hands and cast a joint transportation spell that was a peculiar mix of leaves and sparks, two elements out of place when used together. Still, it would get them to Battersea and that was all they really cared about. Sherlock's plants hummed louder, trying to get his attention, and they wilted a little when he blatantly ignored them. All they wanted to do was wish him good luck and that they hoped Greg could be brought back in one piece. Oh well, they'd tried their best. 

* * * * 

Once it was sure they were not coming back Destruction uncoiled itself from the shadows that always gather in the corners of any room, and considered everything it had just heard. It did not think the kidnap plan was part of the greater war- it seemed too petty a thing to be the work of Calligrapher, the head of the graffiti Magi. Destruction was looking forward to following them to Baker Street and finding out exactly what was going on. The Ancient was glad it had spared Sherlock's life because the earth Magi was indeed proving to be fascinating. Destruction had never known any Magi to ignore a direct summons from their high council representative and definitely no one had ever favoured a human over their own kind. It would be interesting to see how it all played out... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because angiograms in the wrist are now a thing I am reduced to only one hand, meaning the update will be postponed to at least mid next week. For someone who loves writing by hand a lot I am not the happiest person right now :(
> 
> Thank you to everyone who stuck with the story this far and I hope you enjoy whatever comes next. :)


	6. What happened at Battersea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! 
> 
> It took far longer than I expected for my wrist to heal and I have only just gotten to the point where I can actually type again. I apologise for the long delay and can only hope this story will continue to be worthy of your time. :) From now on I plan to go back to a normal updating schedule.
> 
> Warning: There is a graphic(ish) and unusual death later on in the chapter.

Even with the sunlight steaming down on it the half destroyed wreck of Battersea looked forbidding with half of the building being cast in heavy shadow. Once a fully functioning power station Battersea was now little more than a accident waiting to happen, a victim of a fight long ago between fire and rubbish Magi who were having a territory dispute. Now it was nothing but an empty hulk with scorched brickwork and a roof that had been half destroyed when one of the famous white chimneys had come crashing down after being hit by a particularily powerful fireball. It was a sad remnant of its former self and a perfect place for committing dark deeds and carrying out nefarious deals. Hardly any Magi went near it, cautious of the unrestful spirits that supposedly called Battersea their home, but there were always those who disregarded the rumours and chose to go there anyway. 

Beneath the hole in the roof, illuminated by a bright beam of light, was a plain metal chair to which Greg Lestrade was chained and beginning to get a little uncomfortable. He was relatively unharmed and the only outward sign of distress was the bloody lines inked into the skin of his bare skin, showing clearly where the graffiti Magi holding him captive had had a little fun. Greg had no idea why he was there or what the person in the multi-coloured robe wanted and the not knowing was beginning to annoy him. He usually knew everything going on within London. The only thing he did know for certain was that the person standing before him was a graffiti Magi, one of the most vicious of the Magi clans. Greg swallowed hard and tried not to dwell on that little fact for too long. Sometimes there were advantages to being in the dark. Shifting slightly in his chair as much as the chains would allow Greg glared at the Magi, wanting to say something but unable to speak past the tape stuck over his mouth. Which was probably a good thing because much of what he wanted to say would be more than enough to get him killed. He was sure somebody would be along to rescue him before too long because surely by now someone must have noticed he had gone missing. Greg was ever holding out the hope that, despite their arguement, Mycroft would even come himself. He knew it was daft, especially when he remembered he had accused Mycroft of not trusting him, but he found himself hoping it would happen anyway. Hope could be a dangerous thing sometimes, a pervasive force that was almost impossible to get rid of when you let in, and more than cabable of breaking your heart when you proved to be hopelessly wrong. Greg let out a sigh and slumped against the chains, the fight going out of him as he tried to tell himself it was pointless to hope but he found himself unable to let go now the seed had been sown. And then, without any warning, it finally happened. 

There was a flash of green and of yellow and three very familiar people appeared about five metres away from Greg on top of a sizable pile of rubbish, all of them faintly shimmering from the protective shields surrounding them. Greg felt his heart actually skip a beat. He known they would come for him eventually. The three looked warily around for a moment, obviously getting their bearings and making sure they weren't about to be attacked. Seconds later Mycroft let out a cry when he spotted his lover chained to a chair and tried to run to his side. He did not get very far however because Sherlock flung out an arm and stopped his brother mid-stride. "Wait. It could be a trap!" Sherlock cried, glaring at the graffiti Magi, whose face was hidden beneath their hood, with suspicion. He was still so sure the Magi would turn out to be 'him'. He felt a shiver run down his spine and the scar across his shoulders began to prickle unplesantly as old, unwanted memories began to rise to the surface. He really, really did not like this. His sixth sense was screaming at him that something was wrong... 

Right on cue, almost as though some unseen presence had been waiting for just the right moment, the graffiti Magi flung back their hood and grinned at the three Magi before them, their grey eyes shining with unmistakable glee."Have you missed me Sherlock? It's been a while since the last time after all." The Magi said in a voice that carried the faint hint of a plesant sounding lilting accent that did nothing to hide the definite underlying cruelty. 

Instinctively pushing Sherlock behind him John clicked his fingers and summoned two crackling balls of electricity in each hand. He should have known Moriarty would be involved in this somehow. He always did have a fondness for causing misery and pain wherever he went. John swallowed hard and just about managed to stop himself from electrocuting the graffiti Magi where he stood but it was close run thing. He could still remember all too well what had happened the last time he had faced Moriarty in an abandoned building, when Sherlock was the one who was tied to a chair and bleeding heavily.... John gritted his teeth in a snarl and literal sparks shot from his eyes. It was never wise to cross an Electricity Magi, and especially not one who had taken a lover. Not only could they have alarmingly short tempers but they were extremerly protective when those they cared about were hurt. John was showing remarkable self control in not having already stopped Moriarty's heart with a blast of electrical energy. "What the hell do you want this time Moriarty?" John demanded, determined to do anything to make sure that no more harm would come to Sherlock. He had already suffered more than enough for one day. 

Mycroft's breath caught in his throat and he made a peculiar choking sound. Why by earth did he have to be involved again? It was like Moriarty was not happy unless he was actively causing trouble for the Holmes brother's. He let out a sigh and shook his head. Like John he could still remember the pain inflicted on his little brother by Moriarty's hand... He should have known the rescue mission would be far from easy. Luck really did not seem to be on their side today. 

At first Moriarty did not reply as he paced around the helpless Greg with the smooth gait of a predator and it took a huge effort on Mycroft's part not to run to his lovers side. He was assuming, probably wisely, that Moriarty would have something in place in case somebody tried exactly that. It was hard though, to be so close to Greg and not be able to help him. Seconds later, without any warning whatsoever, Moriarty reached out and traced a fingertip down Greg's bare chest, leaving a bloody line of black ink in its wake. Then with an unpleasant grin on his face Moriarty turned to face John, apparently oblivious to the insults Mycroft was throwing in his direction. 

"You know, I was hoping Mycroft would go running to you two. You Elemental Magi always get so overprotective when your mates are in danger." Moriarty sneered as he continued to pace, his multicoloured robes gleaming in the sunlight like a petrol spill in a puddle of water. "And you did so spoil my fun last time..." He made as though he was about to touch Greg again but before he could a tendril of ivy shot out from the ground beside him and wrapped tightly around his wrist. 

"Touch him again and I swear by earth I will make you regret it." Mycroft said in a voice so low it was practically a growl. While earth Magi were usually good natured and laid back it was a very bad idea to get on the wrong side of one. Like the other elements earth and nature had a destructive side. 

Unseen by any of the Magi Destruction shifted slightly where it was standing off to one side and watching the unfolding scene with interest. There was a smile on its scaly features as it turned to the Ancient beside it and lightly clapped them on the shoulder. "I can see why you came here Pain. This must be something of a feast for you." 

Pain, a hulking shape of pulsating red and green, gave Destruction a sideways look, apparently not pleased with the presence of its sibling. "Exactly, but don't expect me to share it with you." Pain hissed, baring knife blade teeth at its brother. "I was here first." 

Destruction let out a quiet snort. Pain should know that this was not quite to its tastes- there simply was not enough destruction to feed it's hunger. "Oh I wouldn't dream of it." The Ancient answered, turning its gaze back to the scene being played out in time to see Moriarty being thrown to one side with a single sweep of Mycroft's hand. "Hmmm. Looks like things are beginning to get interesting." It mused, lightly nudging its sibling. Pain glared back for a moment but quickly went back to feeding when Moriarty swore quietly and clutched at his left shoulder which was clearly dislocated. 

Slowly, and a little painfully, Moriarty picked himself up and looked over at Mycroft with a hurt expression on his face. "But I didn't even touch him again!" He protested, eyeing John as he tried to work out whether the electricity Magi would take a shot at him as well. God he hoped not. As he had found out previously being electrocuted hurt and he was half tempted to show up a shield spell. But at the same time he didn't want to show how shaken he was feeling in that moment. Better just to keep his eyes open and get ready to jump to one side should he need to. 

Mycroft's eyes glowed a brilliant green. He was so close to losing control of his emotions but maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing. Moriarty deserved everything that could possibly happen to him. "That was for what you did to Sherlock." He spat, ivy writhing around his feet in preparation for another attack. 

Helpless to do anything but watch Greg felt his eyes fill with tears at the strength of Mycroft's emotions towards him. The argument seemed like such a petty, unimportant thing now as he realised just how much Mycroft loved him. Along with this though there was also a wave of anger for Moriarty. Greg remembered what had happened when the graffiti Magi had kidnapped Sherlock. He had been at Baker Street comforting Mycroft when John had burst in carrying an unconscious and bleeding Sherlock. He swallowed hard and pushed the thought to one side. Right now he had bigger things to worry about. Such as how on earth were they all going to get out of this one? From where he was sitting things really were not looking good. 

Moriarty laughed. "That was never technically my fault. Sherlock was just asking for trouble by being on the wrong side of the river. It's almost like he wanted to get himself kidnapped." He paused, turning his gaze to Greg who felt a shiver of revulsion run down his spine. "Which brings me to the reason I summoned you here. I wish to propose a trade. I will give you your human back Mycroft if you give me Sherlock." He had barely finished speaking before he had to throw himself to one side to avoid a bolt of lightning that would probably have fried him on the spot. Incensed Moriarty could even dare to suggest such a thing John summoned another handful of electrical energy and prepared to throw it. He faltered however when Moriarty gave him a 'are you really that bloody stupid' look, realising it would be pointless to attack now Moriarty knew it was coming. "Come on sparky. You know killing me will be used as an excuse to ignite war between the Modern and Elemental Magi." Moriarty said, sounding more than a little smug. 

Now it was the turn of the Elementals to look pleased, the two Holmes brothers exchanging a glance while John threw back his head and let out a not entirely stable sounding laugh. Destruction nudged Pain in the side, sensing something big was about to happen. It was always exciting when the tables were turned on the villain of the story. 

"You haven't heard." Sherlock said, reaching out to lay a hand on John's shoulder. John turned, noticed the peculiar gleam in Sherlock's eye and gently shrugged off his hand so he could step off to one side. That look never meant anything good and John almost found himself feeling sorry for Moriarty. "As of half two today the Modern and Elemental Magi were officially at war. The two sides are gathering as we speak so I hardly think they need an excuse, and I don't think they really would have cared about a single graffiti Magi. They have rather more important things to be worrying about." 

Some of the smugness slid from Moriarty's expression. This was not how this was supposed to go. "Oh." He said in a small sounding voice, obviously taken aback by what he had just heard. Now he needed to come up with a new plan of action. Something that could help him make sense of a situation rapidly spiralling out of his control. In the end he barely got a chance to think of anything before it happened. 

Before John or Mycroft could react or even begin to try and stop him, Sherlock lunged forward and wrapped one of his hands around Moriarty's throat. His eyes glowed a vivid green as he summoned a small plant with tiny, almost delicate white flowers. John frowned at it, trying and failing to identify the plant. It certainly was not something he came across in everyday life....Oh, right. With a jolt John suddenly realised where he had seen a picture of such a plant before- within a book about poisonous plants- and swore quietly. Not only was Hemlock highly poisonous to humans, it also needed to be ingested for it to work properly. John had a horrible idea he knew exactly what Sherlock planned to do. His hands shaking slightly John reached out to lay a hand on Sherlock's shoulder. Despite the pain and heartache Moriarty had caused what he was about to do would haunt the earth Magi for life- your first killing always did. "Sherlock, wait. There has to be someway else to punish him. You don't have to do this." 

Sherlock's expression hardened, his mind already made up, and he shrugged off John's hand. Then, with a single violent movement, he forced the Hemlock down Moriarty's throat. Almost immediately the graffiti Magi began to choke from the obstruction in his throat and a wave of panic flooded through him as he fought for air, clawing desperately at the hand around his throat. Sherlock ignored him however and concentrated on channelling his power into the tiny plant and making it grow. It felt good to finally be repaying his tormentor back for every single little scar carved into his skin. 

Seconds later the effects of the Hemlock began to kick in and Moriarty noticed his muscles going numb. He wished he could fight, or do something to postpone his fate but an all pervading weakness was already creeping over him as the Hemlock was forced into every part of his body it could possibly get into. The pain was unbearable but, thankfully, a heavy blackness was already settling over his mind. After several long minutes Moriarty's arms dropped simply to his side's as his heart finally gave out. It was only then that Sherlock realised what he had done and he fell to his knees with a cry, shoving Moriarty's body away from him in horror. 

Pain breathed in deeply, feeding off the energy from the graffiti Magi's violent death and thoroughly enjoying it. It had not tasted such sweetness in years. Even Destruction found itself licking its lips and wishing it could partake of the feast as well. It made it even better by Sherlock being distraught by what he had done. Pain was not picky what it fed off and would happily devour both physical and emotional pain. It was even better when both came at once. 

Still unaware of the Ancients watching them the actors in the scene continued to play their parts. Sherlock sobbed quietly into his hands, ashamed at how happy he felt about Moriarty's death. Maybe, finally, he would be able to sleep without having to worry about nightmares keeping him awake... and yet he found himself horrified and disgusted that Moriarty had died by his hands. Sherlock had always been afraid of the darkness that lived inside him. 

John however did not care about the darkness inside Sherlock. While Mycroft hurried to Greg's side and tried to untie him, wincing when his bare hands came into contact with the iron of the chains, John went to Sherlock and knelt beside him. "It's alright Sherlock. You don't have to fear him anymore." He murmured, wrapping his arms around the earth Magi and hugging him tightly. 

Sherlock relaxed slightly, a feeling of calm settling over him and taking away some of his torment. He was not to know that Pain had laid a claw tip against his back and was feeding directly on his distress and emotional turmoil. It always tasted better in Pain's opinion when it came directly from the source. It was something it was probably best Sherlock remained in the dark about. "I-I don't know what happened. I just saw red when he said he wanted to do a trade. I couldn't face being held prisoner by him again..." Sherlock swallowed hard, finding himself struggling to hold back tears. He had believed he had better control over his darkness. Earth only knew what Greg thought about all of this. The poor human was new to the Magi world and had already been exposed to some of its nastiest parts. Taking a deep breath Sherlock rested his hand on John's shoulder. At least it was hopefully all over now. 

Mycroft glanced over at his little brother as he finished undoing the last of the chains and slowly helped Greg to his feet, wincing in sympathy when he saw the black lines carved into Greg's back. If Sherlock had not done it already he would have happily torn Moriarty limb from limb for what he had done. Anger boiled within him; red hot enough to cause his eyes to flash green. How dare that bastard try and go after his brother again! His anger quickly faded when a hand lightly touched his cheek and he looked down to find Greg smiling up at him. 

"You came for me! The black creature kept saying you wouldn't but I knew you would come." Greg cried, throwing his arms around Mycroft's shoulders and burying his head in the side of the earth Magi's neck. He had known Mycroft would come and wouldn't leave him at the mercy of Moriarty who had turned out to be a Magi. He was beginning to regret ever finding out the truth.... not that he was going to dwell on that now though. At the moment he was just glad it was over. He let out a sigh. "Can we go home now?" He asked, his voice shaking slightly. Then he frowned, having noticed the puzzled look on Mycroft's face. "What is it? What's wrong?" 

Mycroft stared at Greg for a moment longer, trying to make sense of what he had just said. Like every Magi he knew about the legend of the Ancients but like everybody else he believed they were nothing but bedtime stories to terrify young Magi who wouldn't behave themselves. They most certainly weren't real. Mycroft sucked in a sharp breath. "Are you sure that's what you saw dearheart? The pain might have been causing you to hallucinate..." He began before being interrupted by Sherlock and John walking over to join them. His little brother still looked pale but some of the panic had faded from his eyes and he longer looked quite so haunted. Mycroft quickly shot Greg a look that said they would continue talking about this later. 

"Lets get out of here. This place is giving me the creeps." Sherlock said quietly with one final glance around the abandoned power station, being careful to avoid the body of Moriarty. He took John's hand and reached out to take Mycroft's as well, already summoning the power he needed for a transportation spell. "I've had enough violence and misery for one day." His voice sounded so pained Mycroft almost pulled him into a tight hug. 

Mycroft resisted the urge however, wanting to keep hold of Greg to make sure that nothing else could happen to him. He had come too close to potentially losing him. To buy himself some time while he pushed down the panic and steadied his emotions Mycroft cleared his throat and pressed a light kiss on the top of Greg's head. There was no way he was letting him out of his sight ever again. "That sounds like a great idea, brother mine." He said, gently squeezing Sherlock's fingers. 

Sherlock smiled back at him. Then there was a flash of light as the spell took hold and by the time it had faded the little group had vanished, and were well on their way back to the safety of Baker Street. 


	7. Interlude

Destruction had known Sherlock Holmes would prove to be interesting and was glad saving his life had apparently paid off. But it had never in a million years could have fore seen that something like this was going to happen. It's black eyes glowed as it watched the earth Magi being comforted and it listened with interest to Greg telling Mycroft about the black creature whispering in his ear. Besides Pain it had not seen any other Ancients but then most of its siblings were rather good at hiding themselves if they did not want to be seen. It was what made their family so damn annoying! Well that and the fact the Ancients often did not mix well with one another. Something to do with them being powerful forces of negativity and nature. Anyway.... Destruction pushed the thought to one side. It had more pressing matters to worry about than a family member who might or might not be here. 

Pain shook its head and blew out a breath. "Well that was certainly... interesting." The Ancient said, it's black eyes staring at the spot where the Magi had just vanished. "Looks like the final battle is going to be fun." 

Destruction did not reply to its sibling because it's mind was on other things. Such as the trickling sensation it could feel that sent electrical sparks jolting through its scales. Half way across London at Trafalgar Square the Elemental and Modern Magi were gathering and Destruction could sense the growing tension that was steadily growing to a breaking point. Tension that was being amplified by the hatred of the water Magi who had almost lost their high council member when the Modern Magi attacked the council chamber. Such strong emotions would be like a beacon to the other Ancients who had not woken up yet and Destruction felt a shiver of anticipation run down its spine. The final battle was now so close it could practically test that feast that was to come. Hmmm, maybe it was time for it to join its siblings, Death and War, who were almost certainly waiting for it at Trafalgar Square. 

Destruction reached out, intending to tear itself a door but before it could the shadows behind the empty chair shifted. Destruction let out a snarl and crouched. It had known one of its siblings was here. The shadows continued to move, gradually settling into a hulking form with massive razor edged wings and shockingly sharp teeth that glinted in the sunlight and would be guaranteed to strike fear into even the strongest of human hearts. Which, funnily enough, was how this particular Ancient had earned its name in the long ago days when humans still lived in caves and were afraid of the dark. 

The sharp teeth parted in a grin as the Ancient stepped forward and easily towered over its two siblings. "I hadn't realised so many of the family were already awake." It hissed before it's glowing white eyes settled on Destruction with something that almost resembled amusement. "I must say I'm surprised to see you here my brother. I would have expected you to have been at the battlefield already..." The white eyes narrowed, "or are you carrying out one of your daft little experiments again?" The Ancient asked, their disdain at the idea audible in their lilting, yet snarling voice that was deliberately designed to send shivers down the spine. Such things however had no affect on Destruction. It had long since grown used to the little tricks it's sibling liked to play. 

"I could say the same of you, Terror. Surely one human can't be enough to feed your bottomless appetite." Destruction replied with a sideways glance at Pain, who was still enjoying the aftermath of the human's pain still hanging in the air. Pain was not picky about what it fed on and would happily choose a human over a Magi if that was all that was available. Terror on the other hand had rather more refined tastes by comparison. 

Terror sniffed and gazed with disdain down at Destruction. "It wasn't the human that attracted me to this place of old memories and I didn't even come here with the intention to feed." Terror paused for a moment and bared its teeth in a snarl. "I thought I sensed one of the light Ancients and decided to come check it out." 

Pain rolled it's eyes. "And did you find anything sister?" It asked in a voice tinged with sarcasm. It was common knowledge after all that the light Ancients were permanently locked out of the human plane through a mixture of their own weakness and a lessening of belief on the side of the human's who were turning to more violent and warlike pursuits. There was simply no way Terror could have sensed a light Ancient in Battersea. 

Terror snarled and held out a clawed hand, turning it this way and that as though inspecting its long black nails. Pain felt a shiver run down its spine. "What do you think?" It asked, gesturing with its empty hand at the empty space. Terror let out a sigh. "Still coming here wasn't a complete waste of my time. The earth Magi's terror was an unexpected meal... and wasn't the younger one bloodthirsty?!" Terror suddenly cried with a gleam of amusement in its eyes. "Looks like the final battle will be an interesting one. My bet is on the Modern Magi winning. The Elementals have gotten too out of touch over the years." It said, a smile that was all fang spreading across its face. 

"The Elementals could still win. They've been around far longer then the Moderns and they've always been good in a fight." Pain said in reply before glancing over at Destruction, having noticed their sibling wasn't joining in with the banter. Judging by the thoughtful expression on its face it hadn't even been listening. Pain lightly tapped Destruction on the arm. "What do you think brother? Will the Elementals or the Modern Magi come out on top?" 

Destruction was silent for a moment as it shifted its serpentine body away from Terror's slimy hide which was almost within touching distance. While the Modern Magi definitely had the upper hand, the Ancient found itself hoping the Elementals would somehow be able to win... Destruction let out a sigh. Maybe Death was right, maybe it's heart was indeed beginning to go soft. "What does it really matter who wins and who doesn't? We get to feed no matter what the outcome might be." Destruction retorted as it stretched out a hand and ripped open a door in the world's fabric. "And talking of winning, it's probably time we joined the rest of the family. They'll be wondering where we are." 

This was agreed by the other two to be a good idea and Destruction held the tear open a little wider so Terror and Pain could pass behind the scenes. Before it went through Destruction found itself hesitating and looking back over its shoulder at Moriarty's crumpled body. It wanted to make sure there was no chance of the graffiti Magi coming back. To the Ancient's relief the shadows closest to the body were already creeping forward in preparation of a fresh meal. Most humans would probably dismiss it as a trick of the light but Destruction knew the truth about what lurked at the edges of the world. The Ancient smiled to itself. Oh if only the humans knew how the things they shared their world with they would not be half so confident that they were top of the food chain. 

Shaking its head in amusement Destruction turned its back on Battersea and followed its siblings through the tear in the world's fabric. It could not wait to find out what was going to happen next. 


	8. Things don't go to plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is taking longer than I would like to type up due to RL getting in the way. Please be patient with me. :) It'll be worth it in the end.

Sherlock knew almost instantly when his transportation spell went awry. It began with a sudden change of direction and was quickly followed by a surge of power that did not belong to him or to Mycroft. Sherlock felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. Apparently, since they had not turned up when they were supposed to, Rowan had decided to take matters into his own hands. Sherlock swore beneath his breath. His power was no match for a high Magi and even if he wanted to he could not cancel the transportation spell when it was halfway through. Their linear and highly focused nature simply made it far too dangerous to attempt such a thing. There was nothing Sherlock could do but hope they would at least arrive in a quiet area, and they could stash Greg somewhere before another Magi noticed him. Of course, since their luck had already been pretty bad, he should have known everything would go horribly wrong. 

Sure enough, to Sherlock's horror, they ended up transporting right into the heart of the Elemental war camp that had sprung up around the base of Nelson's Column, the statue of the same name peering down at the activity below him with interest. No one knew why the statues of London were alive, though many of the rumours amongst the Elementals reckoned it was an stone Magi animation spell that had gone awry. Whatever the reason nobody had found a way to turn them back and over time the Magi and humans had simply become used to them. Many people now agreed London would not be the same without them. 

It did not take long for the Magi to notice the new arrivals in their midst and the news quickly rippled through the camp that two earth Magi had turned up with a human and a electricity Magi in tow. Due to the highly shocking nature of the news it only took a matter of minutes for it to reach the ears of the high council, who at first though someMagi must have started it as an elaborate joke. They rapidly realised however that it was in fact deadly serious and would need to be dealt with immediately before it could get out of hand. 

John tugged urgently on the sleeve of Sherlock's robe, reconciling slightly when he realised it was covered with dried blood from the rubbish Magi's attack, and tried to ignore the curious and somewhat hostile glances of the surrounding Elementals. "What happened to going back to Baker Street?" He asked quietly. From somewhere nearby came the high wavering howl of a fire hound and he felt a shiver run down his spine. 

Sherlock let out a sigh and glanced over at Greg whose clothes and general demeanour marked him all too clearly as human. There was going to be heel to pay for this and he felt his heart go out to Mycroft. All Magi knew the penalty of revealing their true identity to a human. "Rowan hijacked my spell. He apparently wasn't happy with us ignoring his summons." He explained, all too aware of the wave of silence heading in their direction. It could only mean one thing- the high council were on their way... "Brother, what do you want to do?" He asked, turning to face Mycroft. 

There was silence for a moment while Mycroft considered this but he never got a chance to reply. Even as he was opening his mouth to say something a voice that sounded like the rustling of leaves on a windy day spoke up, it's owner pushing through the crowds surrounding the new arrivals. The other council members followed close behind. 

"It's always you two isn't it? I swear you aren't happy unless you're causing me trouble." Rowan said, sounding disappointed. He stopped a few metres away from the Holmes Brother and stared at Greg in disbelief. "And this time I find you courting with humans and electricity Magi! What by earth am I going to with you?" 

A shiver ran down Mycroft's spine at the grim expressions on the faces of the high council. He highly doubted any of them would be getting out of this in one piece... His train of thought trailed off when he caught sight of Aquarius. The water Magi was barely standing and was only upright because Cinder appeared to be half carrying her. Her right side was soaked with blood and Mycroft sucked in a sharp breath. At least now he knew why they had finally declared war on the Modern Magi. He glanced over at Sherlock to find his horror reflected on his brother's face. This was more serious then they initially thought. 

"What are you going to do with them?" Zephyr snapped, his white robes rippling in the faint breeze constantly playing around his person. The high Magi of air had a surprisingly short temper and loved a good fight where ever he could find it. "It is only fair we give them the appropriate punishment. Every one knows Magi are not supposed to consort with humans." He snapped, crossing his arms and glaring at the little group before him. 

Sherlock had no idea how to reply to this because what Zephyr said was basically true. They had broken one of the most important Magi laws. Mycroft however was not at such a loss for words and stood up a little straighter before saying something Sherlock never would have expected him to say. His older brother was normally such a stickler for the rules. 

Clearing his throat Mycroft looked Rowan directly in the eye. "I am the only one who should be punished for this. Sherlock and John had nothing to do with any of this. They only found out about Greg this morning." There was only the barest hint of a shake in his voice despite how badly this could potentially end. 

"We only have your word for that, earth Magi." Cinder said, his eyes glowing like lit coals as he stared at Mycroft long enough to make him feel uncomfortable. Then he turned to address Hiashi who was staring into space with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Well Hiashi, is he telling the truth? You're the only one here who can tell for sure." 

Hiashi shook his head and blinked rapidly. "Sorry, what did you say?" He asked, waiting for Cinder to repeat himself in an exasperated sounding voice. "I can't just turn it on and off you know. Mind reading takes time and preparation... and I haven't had to do it for a while." He retorted, much to the amusement of the crowd. Even in the middle of a war camp before a battle they still found time to argue amongst themselves. 

Greg on the other hand was still struggling to make sense of everything going on. He'd known there were a lot of Magi in London but hadn't realised it would be quite this many. There had to be thousands of them! He swallowed down a rising wave of panic. Until this morning he hadn't even know his lover was a Magi for goodness sake! The only thing he knew for sure was something bad was going to happen and, surrounded as they were, there would be no chance of them escaping. He gripped Mycroft's hand tightly and gave it a squeeze. So long as Mycroft was by his side he was sure everything would turn out ok. Mycroft wouldn't let anything happen to him. 

Greg's action, even though it was only meant for reassurance and comfort, sent a ripple of unease through the assembled crowd. To see the no fratinizing law being so openly flouted didn't sit comfortably with any of them. Hiashi rolled his eyes at their reaction. Personally he believed the old laws needed an overhaul. Many of them no longer applied in this new, technology obsessed age the humans were currently in. There was, in his opinion, no reason for humans and Magi not to be together. But while the current laws stood he was duty bound to follow them as a member of the high council. 

Letting out a sigh Hiashi walked over to Mycroft and placed his hands on the earth Magi's cheeks. "This won't hurt. I promise." He said quietly, his voice tinged with sadness, earning him stares from his fellow high council members. At that moment though Hiashi couldn't bring himself to care. He was too preoccupied with the knowledge that would lead to the destruction of Mycroft's life and the breaking of Greg Lestrade's heart... Not wanting to dwell on it he pushed the thought to one side and forced himself to concentrate on his mindreading spell. After several seconds his hands began to glow with a gentle purple light. 

Several tense minutes passed as the other members of the high council waited impatiently for Hiashi's verdict. Helpless to do anything to help his brother Sherlock reached for John's hand, needing to reassure himself he was still there. He couldn't believe how much of a mess this had turned into. Not only would Mycroft be punished but John's presence here meant the electricity Magi's neutrality had probably come to an end. There would have no choice but to join the Elementals since one of their own was so closely involved with one. Magi mated for life and trying to split a bonded pair usually resulted in one or the other being driven mad. Sherlock didn't think the electricity high Magi would be prepared to risk such a thing but the fact he couldn't be one hundred per cent sure scared him a little.... 

Sherlock's train of thought trailed off when he noticed Hiashi's hands had stopped glowing, a sure sign his mindreading spell had come to an end. Sherlock had been hoping it was take longer and give Mycroft a little more time. He swallowed hard and let out a shaky breath. Mycroft's time was rapidly running out and there was nothing he could do without making things for himself and John. All he could do was watch and hope for a good outcome. 

All of a sudden silence fell over the restless crowd as Hiashi stepped away from Mycroft and turned to address the other high council members. Everyone there was eager to find out what would happen next. Hiashi let out a sigh. "Mycroft Holmes speaks the truth. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson are indeed innocent in this crime and as such should not suffer any punishment." He said quietly, looking Rowan directly in the eye. 

Rowan bowed his head in acknowledgement. "Thank you Hiashi." He said, running a hand through his spiked green hair and causing it to stand on end. He was the youngest member of the high council, only having been voted into the role one hundred and fifty years ago, and he still felt uncomfortable with the amount of responsibility he was expected to wield over his fellow earth Magi. Right now he was the sole person who could pass judgement on Mycroft Holmes. 

"Well," snapped Zephyr, his blank white eyes flashing with a surprising fierceness, "some of us have other things we need to be doing." He glared at Mycroft and a chill wind swept across the square, struggling the Magi's coloured robes in its wake. Zephyr had never been all that good at keeping his emotions in check and was well known for his random bursts of destructive wind when he lost control. Everyone went out of their way to try and keep him calm because constantly replacing windows began to get expensive after a while. Right now he was alarmingly close to losing it. 

With a heavy heart Rowan took a deep breath and prepared himself to pass judgement. "Mycroft Holmes for the crimes of fratinizing with a human and willingly revealing yourself to them despite the law, I sentence you to exile in the Forgotten Realms- effective immediately." 

There was a low murmur from the crowd. Most of them sounded pleased but there were a few who found themselves feeling sympathetic. Exile was one of the harshest punishments that could be given to a Magi. The crowd quickly feel silent when Sherlock let out a cry and went to run to his brother, letting go of John's hand as he did so. He was forced back by a blast of wind from Zephyr. 

"Wait! Please! There has to be something else you could do." Sherlock said in a voice that was little more than a gasp. He turned to Rowan and felt despair wash over him when he saw the sad expression in the high earth Magi's eyes. He swallowed hard and forced himself to step back so he was standing next to John again. Not caring what the other Magi might think John wrapped his arm round Sherlock's waist and hugged him tightly. 

A sad smile crept onto Mycroft's face even as he still struggled to come to terms with what he had just heard. "I'll be ok brother mine but you'll have to look after Greg for me. Make sure he gets home and has a happy life without me." He said in a shaky voice, unable to stop a tear dripping down his cheek as he ran to Greg and hugged him tightly. Zephyr made as though he wanted to stop him but Hiashi held him back to allow the two to say goodbye to one another. They could at least allow them to do that. 

Too choked up to say anything, even though his heart was overflowing with things he wanted to say, Greg burst into noisy sobs and buried his head in Mycroft's shoulder. There was some jeering from the surrounding crowd but it lacked enthusiasm. Most of the Magi found themselves touched by the heartfelt farewell taking place. 

Rowan advertised his eyes. Great, now he felt even more terrible for what he was going to say next. He cleared his throat to draw everybody's attention back to him. "And for the human..." He paused for a moment, finding himself struggling to get the words out, "I am forced to recommend Hiashi wipe his mind of all knowledge regarding the Magi." 

Greg looked up at him in horror, his sobbing momentarily stifled by the sheer shock of what he had just heard. Surely such a thing was not actually possible! "But that's barbaric!" He protested, "you can't just go around wiping people's memories!" 

"I'm sorry." Rowan said with genuine sorrow in his voice. "But I have to follow the laws. It's either that or you have to face the death penalty." He nodded at Hiashi, indicating the spirit Magi could step forward. "This really is the lesser of two evils." Rowan reached out, took Mycroft's arm and gently drew him away from Greg, leading him into the centre of the high council who were all watching him with serious expressions. 

Hiashi walked over to stand before Greg and placed his hands on either side of Greg's face once again. He tried to ignore the tears running down the human's face. Behind him the high council joined hands, linking their energy together in order to cast the one way transportation spell that would send Mycroft to the Forgotten Realms. It did not take long for the spell to take effect and before too long Mycroft made a pervasive force tugging him backward. He fought against it for a few seconds but it quickly became too much for him. 

As everything faded slowly to black around him Mycroft had just enough time to glance over at Greg one last time as he realised he hadn't got the chance to tell him how much he loved him. He knew it was something he would regret for the rest of his life. However short that might prove to be within the hostile and dangerous Forgotten Realms... 

* * * * 

Destruction was not at all happy with the direction events had taken. It was all so bleak and depressing with no sign everything would turn out alright in the end. The Ancient was glad it could finally put it's plan into action. That would go a little way towards improving the situation. Turning it's attention to the other Ancients assembled on the steps of the National Portrait Gallery it did not take Destruction long to spot the one it wanted. A grin spread across its serpentine features. 

From where it stood beside Destruction, Death rolled its eyes. It knew that look on Destruction's face all too well and it could only mean that it was planning something. "What are you up to now Brother?" Death asked with audible exasperation in its voice. Destruction always had had a nasty habit of meddling, despite strict rules that said otherwise. 

Destruction raised a scaly eyebrow and gave it's sibling a reassuring smile, or as reassuring as it could get with razor sharp teeth that could easily tear apart steel. "I'm not up to anything. I'm just going to say hi to Chaos. It looks so lonely over there on its own." Destruction said, trying to ignore the suspicious look on Death's features as it turned and walked over to Chaos. 

Death bared its death in a snarl. There was a reason was normally alone; none of the Ancients wanted to be around someone who could warp the fabric of reality as easily as breathing. You are never entirely sure where you stood with Chaos. Death really hoped Destruction knew what it was doing but it was beginning to doubt that was true. It's siblings behaviour had been alarmingly erratic of late. If it continued Death would have to have a serious conversation with the rest of the Ancients about Destruction. 

As Death looked on Destruction tapped Chaos's bony shoulder and leant down to whisper in its ear. It was impressive Destruction even found anything physical to tap due to Chaos's constantly shifting form that hurt the eyes if it was stared at for too long. Universe only knew what the two of them were talking about. It was evidently of great interest to Chaos because the Ancient's swirling red and green eyes began to glow as it turned its attention to Hiashi and the human who was about to have his memory wiped. Death shook its head. It was fascinating how the Elemental Magi had apparently momentarily forgotten the war in favour of their latest little personal drama amongst themselves... 

There was a loud snapping sound and, all of a sudden, Chaos was standing beside the human and was reaching out to touch him with a long white finger. Death swore loudly enough that Pain and War turned to look in its direction. Death simply pointed towards Chaos and Pain glanced over before rolling its eyes. 

"What the hell is Chaos..." Pain did not get a chance to finish its sentence. There was another loud snap and everything froze- people, traffic, even time itself found themselves obeying Chaos's whim. A slow grin spread across Chaos's shifting features, momentarily giving the Ancient an even more nightmarish appearance than normal. There was a look of clinical, almost scientific type interest on Chaos's face as the Ancient closed the gap between itself and Greg. Humans were always such fun to play with... 


	9. Greg is given a key- the story gets a little strange

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! :) university has almost finished for this year so I'll finally have my free time back. I look forward to be being able to update this story again. Apologies for the long wait.
> 
> This chapter is a long one. Please bear with me.

It took Greg about half a minute to work out he was the only living thing still moving around and when he did he began to panic, especially when he noticed the red and green eyes staring at him intently from a face made from constantly shifting black mist. There was a smile in the eyes but Greg found himself unconvinced by it. The creature, whatever it was, had an unsettling vibe around it and Greg eyed it suspiciously as it drew closer, wondering what it might want. It obviously wasn't a Magi... though it did remind him of the black creature he had seen at Battersea. Maybe it came from a similar family. 

Swallowing hard Greg glanced over at John and Sherlock, noticing the looks of shock and horror on their faces as they gazed towards the vortex that had just sucked Mycroft into the Forgotten Realm. Even that was frozen and for a moment Greg was half tempted to walk through it to see where it lead to. He stopped however when he realised that would be an incredibly stupid idea. There was no guarantee he would even end up in the same place. Probably best not to, especially considering how terrible his luck had been today already. 

Greg jumped when the dark creature cleared its throat and sounded a little annoyed to be kept waiting. He hadn't heard it walking the last few metres, the creature silent despite its immense size as it towered over Greg. It did not even sound like it was breathing but it was impossible to tell since it did not appear to have a physical body. Greg felt himself begin to shake. This was all becoming a little too much for him. Magi and magic he could cope with but this... it was just too strange for his mind to process. 

"I am sorry for your loss." The creature said, it's voice a peculiar mix of a quiet whisper and a dull roar. Greg had a strong feeling this creature might not be of this earth. There was something otherworldly about it. 

Anger, irrational and all the stronger as a result, rose up with Greg and drowned out any chance of a sensible or rational reply. Before he could think about his reply Greg found himself snapping to a creature that was almost the size of a house. "And what the hell is it to you?" Greg demanded as he drew himself up to his full height. For a moment his gaze drifted towards the sky and the clouds of frozen pigeons hanging motionless above them. He quickly looked away again. He was growing tired of strange occurrences screwing up his previously peaceful existence. 

The creature let out a loud hiss and, without warning, the world around Greg shifted and changed into something different. Trafalgar Square melted away and was replaced by an alarmingly narrow rope bridge slung across what appeared to be a bottomless ravine that appeared to plunge down into a heavy blackness. Greg felt his stomach do a slow loop-the-loop. 

"What is it to you, Greg Lestrade? I came here to help you but you're treating me with hostility. Hardly the done thing when somebody offers you their help." The creature sniffed, it's form momentarily settling into a bone like figure with long fingers that reached out to touch the fraying rope of the bridge, which turned to brittle looking glass beneath its touch. Greg stared at it and felt sick. He was beginning to regret his burst of temper. 

"Who are you?" Greg asked, a little afraid of what the answer might be. He got the feeling he probably would not like it. 

The creature drew itself up to it's full height and gazed down at Greg with a disdainful expression. "I am the cold shiver down your spine, the silence between the seconds, the whisper of unease in your ear as you walk down that dark alleyway. I am the one Governments fear and dictators worship," The creature paused, obviously intending to create dramatic tension and Greg found himself rolling his eyes at the theatricality of it, "I am Chaos." The creature continued, an expectant look on its face as it waited for Greg's reaction. 

Greg did not reply for a moment because what the hell was he supposed to say to something like that. He felt as though the bottom had just dropped out of his previously simple and ordered little world where shadow creatures were nothing but stories. His hands began to shake and he clenched them into tight fists. He still had no idea what to say. "Oh, that's nice." He ended up stammering, knowing this probably fell far short of how he should be reacting. 

Chaos was bemused by Greg's reply and a slow smile spread across a face that briefly appeared and then just as quickly morphed into something different. Good. At least the human probably wouldn't be speaking for a while if the shock on his face was anything to go by. "Now as I was saying- I am here to help you, Greg Lestrade. A concerned friend of mine and I wish to offer you assistance in rescuing your mate from the Forgotten Realm." Chaos paused and stretched out a hand with white, almost bone like fingers. Greg flinched back a few steps and the dark Ancient frowned. "Come now. All I am trying to do is give you a key." 

Where Chaos's hand has seconds ago been empty, now a large golden key about the size of Greg's Palm rested on the swirling black mist that made up Chaos's body. The key sparkled invitingly and Greg began to reach towards it before he realised what he was doing and snatched his hand back. For all he knew there could be a nasty trap lying in wait that would activate the moment he touched it. He continued to stare at it though as he looked up at Chaos and said, "I don't understand. How will this help me find Mycroft? I thought he had been exiled to a place where nobody could follow." He asked, his forehead crumbling with a confused frown. Greg was beginning to feel so out of his depth he was afraid he would never be able to swim back to the surface of something even vaguely resembling sanity. He might as well give up trying to make sense of everything. 

Chaos grinned and gave Greg a wink. "While the Forgotten Realm is off limits to most ordinary people, as the literal embodiment of Chaos I can basically do what I want. Including opening a door to Realms others can not go to." The dark Ancient said with a sly gleam in its eyes. "But before I give you the key there is one little thing I need you to do for me while you're there..." 

Greg let out a sigh. He should have guessed there would be a catch somewhere, some little thing he would have to do for Chaos. Whatever it was it was worth it to see Mycroft again. He still felt angry that the Elemental high council would exile someone for the very small crime (in Greg's opinion) of falling in love. "What do you want me to do?" 

"Good to see you're able to see sense. I doubt most of your kind would be so clear headed." Chaos said with a meaningful glance down towards the bottom of the dark ravine which now, impossibly, had white water rapids roaring past jagged rocks. Greg swallowed and tried to focus on the sky instead. "What I want you to do is simple and one hundred per cent legal, so you needn't worry your little police head about that. All I want is for you to give a letter," Chaos clicked its bony fingers and a letter appeared in the hand that wasn't holding the key, "to a friend of mine." The dark Ancient said, holding out both key and letter for Greg to take. 

Greg stared at the two objects for a long moment, half convinced he was hallucinating the entire thing. Maybe the grief of losing Mycroft had been enough to send him temporarily insane. There was every possibility he was still standing in Trafalgar Square and this was all in his head... His hopes were dashed however when Chaos began to laugh. It was a terrible hollow sound that sent a shiver running down Greg's spine. "What?" Greg tried to demand, though the effect was spoilt by the shake in his voice. "What are you laughing at?" 

"Just the look on your face, Greg Lestrade. It's priceless! Besides right now you really have no choice because I'm guessing you would give anything to see your mate again." Chaos said, watching the human intently. It could understand why Destruction had chosen the Holmes brothers and their mates for his plan. Their feelings for one another made them woefully easily to manipulate... and yet, at the same time, there was something incredibly noble about it all. 

Greg took a deep breath. Chaos was right; what choice did he have really? Slowly, his hand shaking slightly, Greg reached out for the two things that could be his only chance of seeing Mycroft again. "I'll do it. I'll take the letter and deliver it for you. Though I can't make any promises I'll actually be able to find your friend." He said as his fingers closed around the key. He was surprised by how light it felt. Considering its size and the fact it was made of metal he had been expecting it to be heavier. He also discovered that the metal hummed with something that felt un-nervingly like a heartbeat and he had to swallow hard against a rising tide of revulsion. 

"Oh of course you can't make any promises. The Forgotten Realm is vast and you are only a mortal. But I'm confident my friend will find you. She always did have a thing for lost causes." Chaos said, an unpleasant smile spreading slowly across its face. 

Greg bristled. "Lost causes? But I'm not..." He quickly gave up when he realised Chaos was not listening and changed the subject. "How do I even use this thing?" He asked, waving the key around like it was a magic wand. 

Chaos's eyes gleaned with dark amusement, making Greg immediately regret asking. "Oh I'm sure somebody as clever as you can figure it out." The dark Ancient laughed before it clicked its long fingers together with a loud snap that caused ripples in the air around Greg. 

At first nothing happened but Greg still did not relax and instead glanced uneasily over the side of the bridge at the thick grey fog that had appeared from no where. "Figure it out?" He asked as he turned his gaze to Chaos, "how do I do that when I have no idea..." His voice trailed away to nothing. The place where Chaos had just been standing was now empty. He swore loudly unable to believe he had apparently been abandoned in this place. His anger however quickly turned to panic when he saw what Chaos had left behind. The rope beside him, the only thing stopping him plummeting to almost certain death, was fraying at an alarming rate. 

Greg began to run, praying he might be able to make it onto solid ground before the rope gave way. It wasn't easy, not with the bridge bucking and jolting below him like it was trying to throw him off and it only grew worse the closer he got to safety. One particularly violent jolt sent Greg falling to his knees and he found himself staring between two of the wooden boards at the terrible drop below and the foaming rapids waiting for him... It was only the thought of how horrible it would be to drown that made Greg climb back to his feet and continue stumbling forward. Why the he'll would Chaos do something like this? Surely blind panic and certain death wasn't a good situation to try and figure something out in... 

Without any warning the bridge vanished from beneath Greg's feet and he found himself falling down, down towards the river below with Chaos's laughter echoing in his ears. He really, really hated that bastard right now and swore he would kill it if he ever saw it again- well that was if it could be killed of course. He gripped the letter and the key a little tighter to his chest. It would probably be a bad idea to lose them... even if he didn't have any idea how the bloody key worked! 

Panic continued to tear at him with sharp teeth, ripping away at Greg's attempts to think like a rational human being. The solution surely could it be that difficult (or so he hoped) or he was sure Chaos would have shown him how to get to the Forgotten Realm without the need for such theatricality. It obviously could not involve a door because Greg was sure they could not just materialise in mid air. The solution had to involve something else. 

He looked down and yelped when he saw how close the river was. He had fallen far faster than he initially thought, not leaving him much time to come up with a solution. Swallowing down another wave of panic Greg forced himself to think rationally despite the imminent death rapidly rising to meet him. He took a deep breath. Well there was one thing he could try. It was ridiculous but all he could think of at that moment. It was also the only thing that made sense. 

Swallowing hard, but not knowing what else he could do, Greg closed his eyes and turned his thoughts to Mycroft, imagining him beside him. Please, please let this work. He was running out of both time and ideas, and he did not know what he would do if this did not work. Greg really did not fancy dying today if he could help it... 

* * * * 

Chaos was pleasantly surprised the human had managed to work it out so quickly. It had honestly been expecting to have to step in and save him before he struck the rocks. Chaos had only been having a little fun but it was beginning to believe that, maybe, Destruction had chosen suitable candidates for its plan. 

Humming a tune without any real melody or rhythm Chaos tore open a doorway in the reality of the world and stepped back through onto the human Plane, arriving back at the same time it had left. It's claws had barely touched the pavement when Destruction grabbed its arm and forcibly dragged it away from the other Ancients. Death glared at its siblings but held its tongue, more concerned with the ripple of shock running through the ranks of Elemental Magi and its cause. The Modern Magi had finally arrived! Beneath Admiralty Arch a wave of grey, black and rainbow seethed and prepared to surge forward. 

Chaos however was oblivious to their presence. Most of its attention was focused on Destruction and the irritation on the dark Ancients face. Chaos rolled it's eyes. What the hell had it managed to screw up this time? That was the problem with being the living embodiment of chaos sometimes, things had a habit of going wrong. "What did I mess up this time?" Chaos asked with a sigh. 

In way of an answer Destruction pointed towards John and Sherlock who were alternating between sheer panic and shouting at Hiashi who was staring at the place where Greg Lestrade had literally just been standing and had now apparently vanished into mid-air. Destruction let out a snarl. "First I said to be subtle about it so nobody would notice and second, you were supposed to send all three of them to the Forgotten Realm. I didn't save Sherlock Holmes just because I felt like it you know. Death would kill me if I tried to do again and I think it's beginning to suspect we're up to something." 

Chaos made a face. "I don't see why they are so important. You could have chosen anyone." It sniffed, shaking its head and completely ignoring the look Destruction was giving it. "There are plenty of Magi you could have picked." 

Destruction resisted the strong urge to punch its claws through Chaos's chest, knowing it's fellow Ancient would not feel it and would probably just laugh. "Unlike many of their kind these Magi and their human friend still believe so strongly that there is goodness and kindness still left in the world. I need that belief if I am going to bring Creation back from the Forgotten Realm." It explained, keeping its voice low so the other Ancients could not hear it. "The love between their little group is strong- the strongest I have seen in a long while. I am hoping it will draw the light Ancients to them." 

Chaos pondered this for a moment. Personally it did not care about the light Ancients but it could understand why Destruction wanted them to return so badly (the humans and the Magi were not the only one blinded by love). All Chaos cared about was the complete and utter mayhem that was soon to be unleashed. It would be able to feast off it for years! "So, what do you want me to do about it?" Chaos asked, pointing with something that was shifting between long, curved talons and bony fingers towards Sherlock and John, who were starting to look a little resigned. "Sadly I gave my only key to the human." 

Destruction fixed Chaos with a hard stare. "Why is it I highly doubt you're telling the truth brother?" It said, it's voice tinged with dry amusement. "I know all too well what you can be like." 

Throwing back its head Chaos burst out laughing. "Oh brother! You've managed to see right through me." It chuckled before reaching out and plucking a golden key from mid air. It bore an uncanny resemblance to the one the Ancient had given to Greg... Chaos caught the look Destruction was giving it. "What? I'll give it back to the human once the two Magi have finished with it." It said with an alarmingly sly looking grin. 

Destruction rolled it's eyes. "Just fix it Chaos, and for realities sake try and be subtle about it." It said, sounding thoroughly fed up with it's sibling. "I don't want the rest of the family to find out what we're doing." 

Chaos did not reply and Destruction looked over to find its sibling was slithering off in the direction of the Elemental high council, who were now gathering around John and Sherlock. Why did it feel like this was probably going to go terribly wrong? Chaos reached out for John and Sherlock, pausing long enough to give it's sibling a wink. Then there was a bright flash of light that was so intense Destruction was forced to shield its eyes. 

When it could see again the Ancient looked over to find John and Sherlock were gone and the assembled Magi were all looking a bit confused, as though they could not remember what they had just been doing. Shaking their heads the Magi slowly began to disperse back into the battle camps, many of them only just noticing the gathered Modern Magi who waited patiently for the order to attack. There were cries of shock and fear. The Elemental Magi were still quite far from being able to face them in battle and now it looked as though they were out of time to prepare. They would just have to do the best they could. 

The Ancients meanwhile knew something was different with the scene before them but, due to Chaos's skilful manipulation of reality, they could not pinpoint what it was exactly. Death found itself unable to remember why it had been suspicious of Destruction despite how hard it tried to draw the thoughts to the surface. It had the feeling Chaos had probably been involved but because Death could not be sure it decided to give up on that train of thought for now, thrning it's attention instead to the Magi who were now so close to attacking each other. 

Chaos smiled and chuckled quietly to itself. The only thing left to do now was to sit, wait and hope the plan worked out the way they wanted it too. It would be such a shame if, after everything Destruction had done, Sherlock, John and Greg ended up trapped in the Forgotten Realm as well. Then there would be no chance of ever bringing back those who had been so unfairly banished in the first place. It was time balance was finally restored to the world... No matter what the cost might be. 


	10. The Forgotten Realm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we go deeper into the rabbit hole...

Where ever the hell they were it definitely wasn't London any more. One moment the two of them had been standing in Trafalgar Square trying to work out where Greg might have vanished to and the next... Well John really didn't have a clue where he and Sherlock had ended up. They appeared to be standing in a reed bed beside a small algae choked pond that seemed to be utterly devoid of any signs of life. But then that could also be down to how everything, from the sky above to the individual blades of grass, was the same uniform shake of grey. Even the very air around them felt lifeless and John's skin trickled unpleasantly. Where by sparks were they? 

As he always did when he was feeling un-nerved John drew his power up so he could access it quickly if he needed to, giving his skin a faint yellow glow. Then he took a deep breath and began to examine their surroundings. As he did so there was a bright flash down by his feet and John looked down to find a golden key half buried in the boggy ground. It looked very much out of place and John found himself bending down to pick it up, carefully placing it in one of the pockets of his yellow robes. He wasn't sure why he did it but he had a thought it might come in handy later on. He had no idea where the thought had come from but felt compelled to follow it never the less. 

Straightening up again John let out a sigh before turning to Sherlock, who was staring around the misty grey landscape that surrounded them. "Where are we, Sherlock? This sure as hell isn't Trafalgar Square any more." He said, small sparks shooting from the ends of his fingers and briefly illuminating the greatness around them. This was both daft and pointless because it didn't reveal any more about their surroundings and attracted the attention of several creatures who, up to that moment, had been slumbering peacefully. Now they began to stir and take an interest in the two Magi shining like beacons in a world that was almost dead. 

"I think we're in the Forgotten Realm. It looks exactly as the books describe it." Sherlock answered, his attention momentarily drawn by the dark trees growing close together on the other side of the pond. He could have sworn he'd just seen something moving in the shadows... 

John let out a snort. Of course they were- as of the situation wasn't bad enough already. "You have to be kidding me! How by sparks have we ended up here?" He swore, kicking out at a clump of scruffy grass that jumped out of the way before his foot could connect, sending him tumbling sideways into a small muddy puddle. "What is wrong with this place? Nothing makes any sense." He snapped as he climbed back to his feet and brushed strands of pond weed off his now ruined robes. He fixed Sherlock with a glare. "What are you laughing at? We are stuck in the Forgotten Realm, reportedly one of the most dangerous places in all of the seven Realms and we have no idea how to get out again. There is also the small detail that we have no idea where the hell Greg has gone! This is certainly not a laughing matter, Sherlock!" 

Sherlock bent down and gave the clump of grass a gentle pat, a smile spreading across his face when it purred faintly in reponse. "Cone on John, you should know by now that you should always try to be nice to plants. They have feelings too you know." He said, not yet ready to face the situation they had ended up in. 

If anything this just seemed to make John angrier and sparks began shooting from his fingertips. "That's seriously what you're worried about right now? By sparks Sherlock! We should be trying to work out why we've ended up here when Hiashi himself told us we wouldn't be punished for our involvement." He said before a sudden thought came to him but after a brief examination of their surroundings it was clear Mycroft was nowhere near them. He had obviously ended up in another part of the Forgotten Realm. All John could do was hope he was ok. 

Letting out a weary sounding sigh Sherlock straightened and cast a critical eye over their surroundings. Aside from the boggy pools and the scruffy patches of grass there wasn't much to see. "I don't know John. Maybe the high council changed their minds. Mycroft did break one of our major rules." He said with a small shrug of his shoulders. Personally he thought the rule to be cruel and old-fashioned but, since there was nothing he could really do to change it, he saw no point in arguing with Magi who were stronger than he was. Besides it was unlikely he would ever see any of them again because once you were in the Forgotten Realm you were trapped there for the rest of eternity...or at least that's what all the stories said. It was possible there was a way out but Sherlock doubted it. As the name suggested people were sent here in order to be forgotten. He shook his head. He just wished he was able to give John better news. "It looks like we're stuck here." He said in a quiet voice, suddenly unable to meet John's eye. 

John's face fell upon hearing this. "But you're supposed to know everything." He stammered even as his hands began to shake. It suddenly felt like the world was resting on his shouders and his knees crumpled beneath him. He didn't appear to notice or care that he was kneeling in a very muddy puddle. "What are we doing to do?" He asked. This was not how he had imagined the day would go and had no idea how it could get better. Right now it felt as felt as though all the light and hope had been sucked out of the world. 

This was a question Sherlock had been dreading. What by earth were you supposed to say when your world was falling apart faster than you could repair it? Things literally couldn't get any worse (or at least that's what Sherlock was hoping). They had been exiled for apparently no reason, Greg had seemingly vanished into mid air and Mycroft was trapped somewhere in the Forgotten Realm... which meant they were in the same place as him. He couldn't believe he hadn't already realised that but put it down to the shock of finding himself here as well. Sherlock breathed a small sigh of relief. At least he now had a plan to action to offer to John. "We try and find Mycroft. He has to be around here somewhere." He said, reaching out to help John back to his feet. The electricity Magi was still shaking slightly but at least there was a faint smile on his face. "Then the three of us can come up with a plan." He continued as he turned his back on the nearest pool and faced the field of gently swaying grass that was between them and the vast forest stretching out on the horizon as far as the eye could see. 

John followed, allowing himself to be led forward without protest. This whole thing was beginning to make him feel a little overwelmed and he didn't mind letting Sherlock take control for a while. He needed time to process what was going on. It was reassuring to know they had an actual plan though and some of the tension left his body. As they walked away John made sure to step over the clump of grass he had previously tried to kick. Sherlock had been right about that. It was never a good idea to annoy strange plants in a place you weren't familiar with. You never knew how they would react. "Sounds like a plan." He said, trying to sound even a little bit cheerful. Sure things looked bleak... but at least they had a plan. 

Then John and Sherlock began to carefully pick their way through the maze of boggy pools that lay between them and dry land. They were so focused on this that neither of them saw the bubbles rising to the surface of the pool they had just left behind, or the weed covered creature that lifted itself from the water and watched them go with hunger in its blind white eyes. This was the most excitment they had had in the Forgotten Realm for years. The creature couldn't remember the last time so many new arrivals had come here from the Mortal Realm. At least it would finally give the inhabitants something new to play with and the weaker creatures could escape torment for a little while at least. It was just a shame humans and Magi were so fragile and wouldn't provide entertainment for long. The weed covered creature chuckled quietly to itself as it hauled its dripping body from the pool and silently began to stalk its prey. It was going to enjoy this... 

* * * * 

Greg felt a shiver run down his spine. He'd been in the Forgotten Realm for less than twenty minutes and he already wanted to go home. Which could be problematic because he had somehow managed to lose Chaos's key. He still wasn't sure what had happened to it. One moment it had been clutched in his hand and the next it had vanished. Greg was beginning to suspect Chaos itself had been behind the disappearence and cursed himself for listening to the dark Ancient. He should have known it wasn't to be trusted. He ran a shaking hand through his hair, causing it to stand on end. He felt oddly vunerable without the key, as though a safety net had been taken away, and found himself glancing uneasily at his surroundings. Greg could understand why the Magi called this place the Forgotten Realm. If he ever got out of here it sure as hell wasn't somewhere he would want to remember in a hurry. 

The Realm was a cold, grey place filled with unfriendly looking shadows which lurked just beyond the edges of his vision, flitting between the colourless trunks of the tress surrounding him on all sides. He had already seen something black and hooded slithering through the undergrowth but it had vanished the instant he had turned for a better look. Which in retrospect was probably a good thing. Greg was in no hurry to come face to face with the creatures calling this place their home. Another shiver ran through him. He would feel a hell of a lot better if he still had the key. He still couldn't believe he hadn't seen it coming. After all, why on earth would a literal embodiment of Chaos be even a little bit trustworthy? 

Greg let out a sigh and turned his attention back to the seemingly endless forest. He'd never seen trees like these before. They had slimy fronds hanging down in place of leaves and their trunks were covered in scaly bark that seemed to have had the colour sucked out of it. There was no clear path between the closely packed trunks and Greg's progress forward slowed to a crawl as he tried to avoid brushing against the fronds but just as he was ducking around one he managed to touch another. He shuddered at the slimy feel of it rubbing over his cheek. Well he wouldn't be able to forget that in a hurry. 

He carried on walking a few more steps before the sound of screaming and heart wrenching despair filled his head and he froze, his eyes flicking around as he tried to work out where they were coming from. At the same time a heavy fog descended and quickly shrounded the forest around him beneath a blanket of impenetrable whiteness. Greg blinked, convinced he could see figures moving about in the fog. There was movement to his right but when he tried to turn his head to see he was horrified to find that his body didn't respond. Panic rose up within in, sweeping away his attempts to try and think rationally. What the hell was going on?! 

The screams grew louder and were joined by the thud of heavy artillary, the scream of every individual shell sending a wave of fear down Greg's spine. He squeezed his eyes shut and fell to his knees, clapping his hands to his ears in an attempt to drown out the sounds. But because it was all in his head this was not enough to get rid of the moans of the wounded appearing in the fog or the crump of earth collapsing into huge craters filled with shattered trees and muddy water. 

Greg let out a whimper and curled into a tight ball, unable to cope with the scenes of battle being played out around him in the fog and also within his own mind. There was no way it could be real... right? He was still in the middle of a forest, not upon a very active battlefield. He could still feel the tree root beneath him that was digging painfully into his knees and yet... Greg bit his lip and tried to force his body to move. It was all in his mind. There was no way it could real. It was just too impossible. Eventually though the sights and sounds began to overpower him. He began to shake uncontrollably. It wasn't real...it wasn't real...but what if it was real? 

* * * * 

With his heart hammering in his chest Mycroft hurried across the bridge stretching across the large pond, trying to ignore the hooded figure he could just about seen from the corner of his eye. There was no way the figure could be human- not from the way it was floating above the decaying wooden planks of the bridge. He also didn't like the peculiar whispering noise it made every time it moved. 

Swallowing hard Mycroft glanced over the side of the bridge at the murky water below, the surface scammed with algae while strange skeletal creatures swam deep within its depths. There were occasional flashes of white but whether it was bone or scale Mycroft was honestly in no hurry to find out. For all he cared they could stay down there. 

Mycroft already hated the Forgotten Realm and still couldn't get his head around the fact he would be spending the rest of his life here. There were so many things about this place that gave him the creeps. One of the weirdest was the lack of sound and the heavy silence hanging over everything like an oppressive blanket. What made it even worse was the way the silence amplified the noise of the creature stalking him to nightmarish proportions. 

He could understand why this place had generally been forgotten. There was nothing here but greyness, silence and unsettling creatures who shouldn't exist... Any further thoughts on the subject were abruptly driven from Mycroft's mind when he went to take another step forward and found his foot going down, down, down past where it should have technically stopped. Letting out a cry he grabbed the handrail and barely stopped himself from falling into the murky water. 

His heart hammered in his chest and his breathing was little more than a series of choked gasps as he tried to recover. What by earth had just happened? He looked down to find that the bridge had suddenly vanished and been replaced by a short jetty that ended barely feet away from the shore line of the vast lake now in from of him. Mycroft stared out across the water, the far bank shrouded behind a curtain of grey mist. Where had the pond gone? Swallowing hard he glanced back to find the hooded creature watching him from where water met land as though it was afraid to step out onto the bridge. Earth only knew what he was going to do now! 

Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm the rising tide of panic Mycroft tore his gaze from the creature and gazed back down at the algae choked surface of the lake. He let out a small cry when he saw what was there. A bulbous, pearl like eye gazed back at him. Right. So apparently swimming to safety was out of the question then if he didn't want to be torn apart. This was just getting better by the minute! Of course, at that precise moment, the whispering behind him grew louder and a nasty musty smell filled the air. It was like somebody had just opened the door to a long forgotten crypt. The creature must have moved while he had his back turned and Mycroft found himself wondering whether he could squeeze past it. There was a small chance he might make it. 

"I really wouldn't do that if I were you. Nobody had ever managed to slip past the Blatherskite." A voice gurgled from somewhere below Mycroft, reminding the earth Magi of a drowning man he had once seen being rescued from the Thames when he was young. It was something that haunted his dreams even to this day. 

Half afraid of what he was going to find Mycroft had to force himself to look down and find out who (or what) the voice belonged to. The moment he saw it however he found himself wishing he had never looked. Sometimes there was something to be said for ignorance. The pearl like eyes stared up at him from a face bloated by too much time spent submerged in water, the skin waxy, pale and distinctly corpse like. Mycroft hastily swallowed down a mouthful of bile. It was worse than he could possibly have imagined, made nightmarish by the fact this creature was very much alive. 

"Well, what do you propose I do then? I have to get away from it somehow." Mycroft said, adverting his eyes and hoping the creature in the lake would not be too offended by his probably all too obvious disgust. 

The creature however did not appear to have noticed or simply did not care enough to react. Instead it blinked its pearlescent eyes as it regarded Mycroft with a thoughtful expression on its drowned and peeling face. "I've been instructed to give you a hand. There's somebody who is curious to meet you and they asked me to offer you safe passage through..." The creature broke off and suddenly rose up, it's serpentine body dripping with weed. 

Before Mycroft could react he felt a blast of cold air on the back of his neck. He shivered and swore loudly. He had briefly forgotten the Blatherskite behind him. Ice flooded his veins, freezing him to the spot with fear, and he found himself beginning to turn round to face it despite his attempts to fight against the urge. It was as though he was no longer in control of his own body... 

If not for the quick reactions of the creature in the lake earth only knows what would have happened. Leaning over the railing the creature grabbed Mycroft in a slimy, weed dripping embrace and pulled him down beneath the water. Mycroft tried to cry out but the creature tightened its grip, cutting off his air supply in a strangled gasp. Quickly realising the creature was much stronger than him Mycroft let himself go limp. There was after all little point in fighting. 

To its immense displeasure there was nothing the Blatherskite could do either and it roared its anger at being cheated as it watched its prey being carried away by the lake creature. That was the freshest meat it had come across in centuries! Snarling beneath its breath the Blatherskite turned and glided back towards the constantly shifting landscape of watery meadows and muddy pools that surrounded the Never-ending Lake, hunting for other creatures unfortunate enough to cross it's path. 

Mycroft meanwhile was beginning to shake as the cold of water seeped through his robes. At least he didn't get to dwell on it for long. With a not at all reassuring gurgling laugh the creature arched it's back and dived deep beneath the surface, leaving nothing in its wake but the faintest of ripples to show it was ever there. 


	11. A force of creation

For the entire terrifying journey across the lake Mycroft was firmly convinced he was going to die. Sure the creature holding him had offered him safe passage but he hadn't actually been stupid enough to believe it. He didn't expect this creature to be any different. 

Because of his fear Mycroft remained oblivious to his immediate surroundings, which was a shame because he probably would have found it fascinating, especially considering the powerful magic the creature was using to propel them through the water. But then it wasn't that great a loss because shee to the murkiness there wasn't much to see past the occasional silvery flash of scales. The creature kept away anything that got a little too inquisitive. Not that Mycroft had any idea how close he came to danger on a number of occasions. He was more concerned with trying to remain as calm as possible despite the screaming panic sweeping through him. Panic that only began to finally calm when the creature reared out of the water and dumped him on a warm sandy beach. 

For a moment all Mycroft could do was lay there while he tried to inflate his chest after the crushing grip of the creature. Finally he sucked in a gasping breath and some of the dizziness began to subside. He had no idea where he was but there was a more pressing question on his mind. "Are you going to eat me?" He spluttered, raising his head so he could see the creature who was looking highly amused at what he had just said. 

Mycroft never could have foreseen the response and was therefore take aback when the creature began to laugh. It was several seconds before it got itself back in control enough to speak. "Oh by all the oceans, Magi! I'm not some uncivilized blood God you know," It said as it dragged its bloated body onto the sand beside Mycroft, "I'm a drowned God. Besides devouring guests is generally frowned upon in most societies." The God said, turning itself onto its back as though it intended to sunbathe. 

Mycroft had no idea how to reply to this and found himself turning his attention to his surroundings while he tried to come up with a reply. White sand, blue sea and palm trees.... they really were on a tropical island. Which was impossible considering the cold, fog shrouded lake they had left behind. It was like this was not even the same place any more. "Where are we?" Mycroft asked, bending down to pick up a handful of sand. It felt warm and gritty as it trickled between his fingers. 

A slow smile spread across the drowned God's face, revealing a mouth full of razor edged shark teeth that sent a shiver down Mycroft's spine. "Oh, we're still in the Forgotten Realm if that's what you're asking. We're just in a bubble separated from all that depressing greatness for a little while. Think of it as a snowglobe." The God noticed the look on Mycroft's face and hastened to reassure him the bubble was perfectly safe, "Unless she lets you in its impossible to enter. The Blatherskite won't be able to find you here." 

Mycroft was about to ask another question, curious to find out a little more about the 'bubble', but before he could he was interrupted by the sound of a throat being gently but pointedly cleared as somebody tried to get his attention. Mycroft frowned; he hadn't been aware of anyone coming up behind him. Slowly, and a little hesitantly because so far all of the creatures he had come across had wanted to eat him, he turned to face whatever was standing behind him. When he saw what was there his mouth fell open in surprise. 

Unusually for the Forgotten Realm the creature standing there was not actually a monster and it's gleaming radiance made the drowned God look even more horrific. Mycroft edged away from the God, wanting to be closer to the silvery light emanating from the Dragon standing before him-it's scales seeming to be made of pure starlight. Tears filled Mycroft's eyes as he continued to gaze at the dragon's beauty and he found himself wanting to sink to his knees. He resisted the urge and settled for a small bow of his head. Beside him the drowned God chuckled quietly to itself. 

"Greetings earth Magi. I would welcome you but this is not the most welcoming of realms." The Dragon said, her (because the soft musical tone was unmistakably female) voice tinged with gentle amusement. "It is a pleasure to meet you at last. I have been watching you with interest ever since you arrived in this place." 

Mycroft didn't know whether he should be flattered or creeper out by this. "Really? Why by earth would you want to meet me? In a single day I have been exiled, witnessed my younger brother murder someone after I didn't do anything to stop it and lost the love of my life. People should probably be avoiding me." He said, slumping down on the sand beside the drowned God and burying his head in his hands. Even just thinking about Greg sent a wave of sadness crashing through him and it took an alarmingly big effort to push it back down again. How by earth had he managed to screw everything up so badly? 

"I am sorry to that Magi. Maybe one day people will not be judged because of who they love." The Dragon said with genuine regret in her voice, a sorrowful expression in her golden eyes."As for why I wanted to meet you... Well just like me you are an exile within this Realm and I have found the best way to survive is to stick together. Which reminds me- my siblings should be joining us before too long." She said, squinting up at the blue sky as she searched for any sign of the siblings she had just mentioned. For now the sky was empty. 

Mycroft looked up as well but when he did not see anything he turned his attention back to the Dragon again. Now he realised she almost certainly was not a threat it was probably time he introduced himself. "I'm sorry but I've neglected the usually formalities when one meets a new person. I am Mycroft Holmes of the earth Magi. Who might you be?" He asked, aware of how formal he sounded. There was something about this Dragon that brought out the worst in him. 

The Dragon smiled, revealing surprisingly sharp looking teeth. Mycroft resisted the urge to step back and shook his head at his own stupidity. Well, what had he really been expecting? She was a Dragon after all. 

"Oh you would never believe me if I told you. You Magi always put so much faith in logic and order. I would not want to be the one to destroy yours little Magi." The Dragon said with a huff, sending something that wasnt quite fire shooting from her nostrils. It sparkled and glimmered like a diamond catching the sunlight and left small flower buds sprouting from the sand in its wake. 

Mycroft crossed his arms and fixed the Dragon with a look. "Try me. Some of us are stronger than we look." 

The Dragon let out a musical laugh and exchanged a knowing glance with the drowned God. Well she had at least tried to warn him. "If you insist Mycroft Holmes on being stubborn... My name is Creation of the "Light Ancients." She announced grandly, drawing herself up to her full and impressive height. 

It was customary for people to faint or start babbling incoherantly when they first came face to face with Creation and the light Ancient was therefore surprised when Mycroft merely let out a loud snort and gave her a look of disbelief. "Seriously?! You're actually claiming to be the literal representation of the force of creation, a being who is only supposed to exist in stories. Everyone knows they are nothing but a legend. They don't actually exist in real life!" 

Creation tipped her head to one side and regarded Mycroft with a critical expression. His serious look never wavered however and Creation felt a small pang of sadness. So the humans and Magi had completly forgotten about them. She was not entirely surprised though. It had been millenia since they had left the Mortal Plane and ended up in the Forgotten Realm. What made the ache of sadness worse was the fact that she was the one to blame. She was the one who had caused her entire family to be exiled from their home. She sighed and briefly hung her head. Her siblings were never going to let her live this down. It was just something else to add to her growing list of sins. Against her will Creation felt anger bubbling up within her. "Really?" She snapped, "It's me you're having a problem with believing in?! You were just rescued by an ancient, forgotten sea god from being eaten by a creature that no longer exists upon your plane of existence, Mycroft Holmes." She shook her head, her temper calming when she saw the look in Mycroft's eyes. He looked so lost and confused that she felt guilty for snapping at him. "Bless you Magi, I haven't been this amused for centuries! But if you still require proof as to my identity..." Creation continued, reaching down to delicatly touch a claw tip to a small pile of sand between her front paws. 

Nothing happened for a few seconds and Mycroft found himself beginning to lose interest, his attention drifting instead to admire the jewel like brightness of the tropical flowers growing where the sand merged with the fringes of a vibrant rainforest. Then he saw movement from the corner of his eye and turned to look just as the pile of sand bulged upwards, growing a head, two arms, a body... Within seconds where there had been nothing but lifeless sand there now stood a living, breathing creature made out of rough looking, fogged glass. Mycroft stared at it and the creature gazed back at him with eyes the same shade of blue as the sky over head. It was incredibly cute with its long lanky arms and faintly confused expression, and Mycroft found himself reaching out to it, wanting to protect the little creature from any harm that could befall it. It tried to take a step towards him but somehow managed to trip over it's own feet. The creature stumbled forward with a warbling cry, it's long arms flailing as it desperatly tried to get it's balance. Without thinking Mycroft bent down and gently grabbed it. It stared up at him for a moment with wide eyes before, realising that he was not a threat to it, the creature chirped contentedly and made itself comfortable in Mycroft's arms. 

Mycroft found himself at a rare loss for words, taken aback by the sheer raw power he had just been witness to. It was incredible- impossible- and yet it had just happened right before his very eyes. There was no way he could deny the evidence before him. Swallowing hard Mycroft forced himself to meet Creation's gaze and was not surprised to find she was looking a little smug. As she had a right to be. He never should have doubted her. "I'm sorry I was so rude to you." He said in a quiet, slightly sheepish sounding voice. 

"It's fine. I imagine you're not exactly thinking straight after everything you've gone through over the past two days. I think that entitles you to a lapse in logical thinking," Creation paused and watched the glass creature for a moment, smiling at how it looked so comfortable in Mycroft's arms, "Looks like you've made a new friend there. I think she likes you." 

Mycroft hugged the creature tightly, feeling strangely comforted by her presence. He sighed heavily. "I can't believe everything that has happened in such a short space of time. None of it feels real. It's like its all some horrible dream I can't wake up from." He said, sitting down on the sand and hanging his head. 

Creation shook her head and laid down beside him, resting her head on one massive paw. It was obvious he had been deeply affected by his experiences. "Want to talk about it?" She asked in her rumbling, yet musical voice. 

Mycroft hesitated for a moment, not wishing to burden Creation with his troubles, but the calm expression in the light Ancient's golden eyes encouraged him to relax and allow the weight of the world to slip from his shoulders. Perhaps it would even make him feel a little better. After all a problem shared often made it seem less bleak. Mycroft rested his head against Creation's leg and gazed up at her. "Well it all started this morning when Greg, my mate, discovered I am a Magi..." He began slowly before going on to tell Creation how everything had gone rapidly downhill from there. 

Creation listened in silence, understanding Mycroft had a lot he needed to say, and felt ever more sorry for him as the tale unfolded. This was what happened when light and dark were out of balance- things quickly spiralled out of control when only one side was in charge. There had to be a way to return to the Mortal Realm before things could get even more out of hand and more innocents suffered as a result. It was time the dark Ancients remembered the human Plane wasn't theirs exclusively to play with, it was time to restore the balance to the world. It would probably be a hard battle but it would be worth it. It was those bastards who had banished them in the first place.... 

Her train of thought trailed off when she became aware of the silence that had fallen over the beach. Mycroft had finished his story and gone quiet, watching and waiting for Creation's reaction. She winced and mentally told herself off. She really needed to stop getting lost in her own thoughts. Distraction was never a good thing in the Forgotten Realm. Before she could even begin to apologise there came a familiar sounding raised voice from further along the beach. Creation turned to find Herne the Hunter jogging towards her on clover feet, his branching antlers reflecting the sun in a dazzling array of bright colours. 

From where he still ay beside Mycroft the Drowned God roused himself, hissed loudly and slithered back into the water. He had had one too many run ins with Herne and still bore fresh scars from their latest encounter that had happened mere days ago. Herne chuckled quietly and shook his head. He had not come here to fight but it was good to know that the lesser and more dangerous creatures of the Forgotten Realm were still afraid of him. Herne sank to his knees before Creation and bowed his antlered head. “Oh, shining one! Oh, great one! There is much I have to tell you. Much has changed within the Realm since last, I reported to you. There are now there two more Magi who has been sent here from the Human Plane and another who appears to be mortal. But that is not the most interesting thing about them, because all of them are tainted by chaos,” Herne said, gesturing at Mycroft, “just like this earth Magi is.” 

“But why would Chaos send people here? I thought the whole intention was to keep us trapped here.” Creation said with a frown of confusion. She glanced down at Mycroft to find him staring at Herne with an emotion that looked horribly like hope. Such a thing as that was most definitely out of place in the harshness of the Forgotten Realm. “Are you sure that is what you and your hunt saw? It could have been a Discord spirit warping reality again.” She continued, desperately trying to keep things in perspective. Hope, after all, could often prove to be deadly. 

Herne straightened to his full height, shaking his head as he did so. “It is definitely real, oh, shining one, one of my most trusted wolves told me of the Magi winding their way through the Blood Swamps and Blizzard the snowy owl told me of the human who has fallen foul of the Ghost Pines. I came here to enquire as to what you wanted us to do. You know that I do not like to anger the forest unless I can really help it.” Herne said, a distant look in his eyes as he remembered another time. 

Creation considered this for a moment. “Find them, Herne, and bring them to me. The Forgotten Realm is no place for those ignorant of its danger.” Creation commanded, laying a gentle paw on Mycroft’s shoulder. Even thought it was gentle Mycroft still found himself staggering slightly beneath its weight. “I do not want innocent people to suffer.” 

Herne bowed deeply again. “As you wish, oh shining stars.” He said before turning and leaving in the direction he came from, once more appearing to simply vanish into mid-air. 

Mycroft began to shake. Those two Magi had to be John and Sherlock, because only they would be dumb enough to pull a stunt such as this. And the other… though he did not want it to be him, Mycroft found himself hoping that it would indeed turn out to be Greg. Never being able to see him again was the worst thing about this place and he would be glad to have some company to spend his exile with. He knew it was selfish but he found himself hoping for it all the same. 

“Don’t worry, Herne will find your friends before something happens to them. He’s very good at finding people- even those who do not wish to be found.” Creation said kindly with a gentle smile on her face before she tactfully changed the subject, sensing Mycroft was close to losing control of his emotions. “Now it is probably time you gave that little creature a name. She appears to have taken rather a liking to you.” She nodded towards the glass creature that was still cradled in Mycroft’s arms and looking very content. It warbled quietly when it noticed Creation watching it and gave her a small wave. 

Mycroft glanced down at it, a small smile drawing up the corner of his lips, and his shaking eased a little. For some reason, maybe because of the delicate pink shade of her skin or the wide, innocent looking eyes, he had started to think of the creature as female. He thought about it for a moment but it did not take him long to come up with a name. In fact, once it had come to him it seemed perfectly obvious, like the name had simply been waiting to be discovered. He put the creature lightly down on the sand. “Rose,” He said, looking up at Creation, “Her name is Rose.” 

Creation bowed her head, her scales shining brighter for a second. “A very suitable name.” She said, watching the glass creature fondly. Creatures made by her always remained her children no matter what happened to them or what they did- it sometimes proved to be one of her greatest sadness’ in her life when one of her creations were twisted into something evil. There was still no sign of her siblings and she frowned slightly, wondering what could be keeping them. They were never normally this late. She let out a sigh and slumped down upon the sand once more. “Tell me, Mycroft, what has been happening in the Human Plane these last few centuries. I want to know everything you can tell me.” 

Mycroft settled down beside her, making himself comfortable, and reached out to pick up Rose so she could curl up in his arms again. “Well,” He began slowly, aware of just how much of human and Magi history he would probably have to cover, “things have probably gone downhill since you left…” 


	12. The Hollow Heart

John and Sherlock never even made it halfway to the distant forest before the creature stalking them caught up, and bodily yanked the two of them apart with inhuman force. It had been so long since the Blood God had had anyone to play with and it was practically shaking with the force of its growing excitement. Fresh blood was hard to come by in the Forgotten Realm and the God fully intended to savour every single moment. It would not be letting these two to slip through its fingers in a hurry. 

The instant John felt the claws grabbing hold of his arm he instinctively threw a ball of electricity at the horrific creature they belonged to, hitting it directly above the gaping, oozing hole where its heart should have been. There was a quiet fizzle as the electricity slid harmlessly off the creatures’ lanky, weed drenched body to explode on the equally sodden ground. John felt his heart sink slightly. Well, that had not gone as he had expected. He swore quietly beneath his breath. All he had succeeded in doing was making it angry. The creature roared and slashed its claws across John’s chest, tossing him easily aside as it turned its full fury onto Sherlock. 

“Your mate’s energy spell would have done some serious damage if I was not immortal,” The Blood God hissed, rage gleaming in its dripping, black eyes, “And that is not how this is supposed to go. You see I am the one who is supposed to be causing the pain and suffering in this situation.” It said, annoyed that the electricity Magi had even managed to get a single blow in. It must be out of practise from having had no prey to torment in so long. 

Coughing up brackish water John hauled himself out of the puddle he had landed in and stared at the god with wide, terrified eyes. He had known the Forgotten Realm was full of nightmarish creatures but he had hoped they would have been able to avoid running into one. A hope that had now come crashing down around him. “What are you?” He stuttered as he desperately tried to summon a spark with wet fingers. His heart sank when all his attempts kept failing. This really was not looking good. 

An unpleasant grin spread slowly across the Blood God’s face. Oh, it was going to enjoy this. Still smiling the God dug its claw like nails into the green material over Sherlock’s heart, the sharp points easily penetrating through to the skin beneath. Sherlock let out a pained gasp that was echoed by John. “Who am I? I am an ancient Blood God, who was once feared by humans but was cast aside long ago in favour of technology and science.” The God growled, its eyes glowing a deep and angry red, the same shade of red as the blood oozing from where its claws were sunk deep in Sherlock’s chest. “You though, since you have irritated me, can call me by my proper name- The Hollow Heart.” If it was expecting a reaction to this the God was going to be sorely disappointed because neither John or Sherlock had ever heard of the Hollow Heart. It was long before their time, from the days when humans and Magi still sailed in wooden ships that depended on the power of the wind to get them safely across the sea. It had also existed on an entirely different continent to the one they were familiar with. As a result, they were entirely ignorant of the very serious danger they were in for the Hollow Heart was once a god worshipped almost exclusively through the practise of human sacrifice. 

Finally, John managed to summon a single spark and shape it into a weak shock spell. Swallowing hard, and having no idea how to really fight the creature in front of him, he glared at the God and tried his best to appear threatening. The effect was spoilt some-what by the fact his hands were shaking. “Put Sherlock down and leave us alone. We don’t want to start a fight with you.” He said, trying to inject a degree of bravado into his voice. 

The Hollow Heart burst out laughing. Oh, how funny! The Magi actually believed he stood a chance against him! He obviously had no idea who he was going up against. Because it would take too long to spell it out (and besides this would be far more fun) the Hollow Heart decided a little demonstration was required to get its point across. Still laughing the God glanced down its nose at John before preceding to ram the full length of its nails into Sherlock’s chest. 

Sherlock screamed and writhed in the God’s grip, blood soaking the front of his already well stained robe. He was beginning to grow tired of being tortured and vowed that once this was all over, he and John were going on a well-deserved holiday. The pain was far worse than the attack by the rubbish Magi and he found his vision going fuzzy around the edges. He was vaguely aware of John preparing to attack again and, swallowing down a mouthful of blood, somehow found the strength to speak and try to dissuade John from what he was obviously about to do. “John…don’t. I don’t think…you can beat this guy.” He choked out, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. “You’ll only make it worse.” John could not possibly be aware of it but Sherlock was able to feel the Hollow Heart’s power humming through the nails embedded in his chest. 

“You might want to listen to your Mate, electricity Magi. I, after all, am a god, while you…” A look of distain settled onto the Hollow Heart’s face as it looked John up and down. Well, the electricity Magi was hardly the most impressive- one swipe and he would be on the floor begging for his miserable life to be spared. “Well, you are nothing but a weak little mortal.” It hissed, waiting for the reaction it knew was coming. 

John paled but did not back down. While the God was hurting the person he cared about most in the world, there was no way he was going to dismiss his spell. There had to be something he could do. All he could focus on was the look of pain on Sherlock’s face. Gritting his teeth John poured more power into his shock spell. A God it may be but the Hollow Heart would pay for what it was doing to Sherlock. 

The Hollow Heart rolled its eyes, a nasty grin spreading across its stone like features. Well, it had tried to warn him. It was not its fault the electricity Magi had ignored his warnings. The dripping eyes rested on Sherlock for a moment, noticing the fear in the earth Magi’s wide eyes. At least one of them had the decency to be afraid. “Such a shame your little Mate decided not to listen to me. Well, a shame for you anyway. I am rather going to enjoy this.” The God laughed, curling its nails inwards slightly so it could wrap them around Sherlock’s heart. The earth Magi let out an agonised scream but before John could do anything he found himself falling to his knees as an identical pain tore through his chest. John gasped and doubled over, feeling sick to his stomach as he tried to process what was happening. The Hollow Heart’s grin grew a little wider. “It’s always so much better when my victims are emotionally linked to one another. It’s like two for the price of one.” 

John wanted badly to curse the God but a cry of pain forced the words back down his throat. Tears prickled his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. He was starting to regret ever forcing Sherlock to get out of bed and go to that stupid council meeting. If he hadn’t there was a chance they still could have been rucked up safe at home with Greg and Mycroft, and none of this would have had to happen. Instead the two of them were going to die in a grey, colourless wasteland with only one another for company and no hope of rescue. ‘It was official’, He thought as his vision began to go grey around the edges, ‘there was literally no way this situation could get any worse.’ All he could do now was hope that death would hopefully mean all of this would end. 

* * * * 

From within the hollowed-out Ghost Pine he called home Love felt his fur stand on end as a faint ripple passed through the Forgotten Realm. He had been half asleep but the ripple was enough to make him stand up and take interest. Somewhere close by something big was going on. The Light Ancient stirred and breathed in deeply, paying attention to the new scents drifting in the air. It was something he had not smelt in a long time. Magi? Here in the Blood Swamps? It could only mean that some poor saps had been exiled from the Human Plane again and had stumbled ignorantly into a place that was hostile to their kind. Love yawned, showing off needle pointed teeth. Well, they were probably going to need rescuing. Some of the Blood gods calling the swamps their home could be exceptionally nasty when they had new toys to play with and Love would not wish that fate on anybody. Besides it was time for Love to wake up anyway if he wanted to get to Creation’s meeting on time. His sister had always been such a stickler for people arriving on time. It was a habit that had quickly grown tiresome since being forced to spend an eternity trapped in the same Realm as her. 

Unlike Creation and her impressively intimidating dragon form, Love was much smaller by comparison and was little more than a small red shadow as he crept out of his den in the Ghost Pine and slunk along the forest floor, his brush like tail waving proudly behind him. His paws were silent as he made his way between the trees, not even making a sound when he trod on a twig and snapped it in half. Spotting a small bush covered with white flowers at the edge of the trees he slunk behind it and cautiously peered out across the Blood Swamps, sniffing at the air once again. Love bared his teeth in a snarl. Blood, terror, pain and cruelty mixed together in a potent mix that was instantly recognisable. The Hollow Heart had found another victim and by the smell of it- yes there were two different Magi. One with a wet, earth scene and the other more like electrical burning but it was plain both of them were suffering equally. It was time to step in before the situation could get any more out of hand. 

Dropping all pretence of being quiet Love charged across the Blood Swamps, casting shield spells across any paths that were in his path. Like most of his siblings Love hated the Forgotten Realm and went out of his way to spoil the perverse pleasures of its nightmarish inhabitants. It was one of the few ways the Light Ancients had found to amuse themselves in the godforsaken wasteland where they were forcibly imprisoned. 

Up ahead the Hollow Heart loomed over the landscape and Love sucked in a breath when he saw the green robed man hanging from its nails. Another man, this one in yellow, was curled up on the grass nearby, occasionally letting out small moans of pain. This was more serious than he thought. With the Blood God in the middle of a blood frenzy it would be stupid for him to try and take it down on his own. Time to call for back up. Love skidded to a halt, glanced back towards the forest and let out a loud, high pitched bark. He just hoped his brother was close enough to hear it. 

The Hollow Heart started and glanced round, distain curling its lip when it saw the small red fox snarling at it. “I think you are a little on the small side to do me any damage.” The God said with a laugh. 

A small smile crept onto Love’s features and he let out a sharp barking chuckle. It was always more fun to tear them down when the gods were arrogant. “Well I may be small but, lucky for me, my friend is much larger.” He said, his eyes moving to gaze over the Hollow Heart’s shoulder. 

The Hollow Heart did not even have enough time to turn around before a large grey wolf slammed into its back, seized its neck in a pair of powerful crushing jaws and bit down. With a roar the god ripped its nails from Sherlock’s chest and threw him to the ground beside John. It had something more pressing it had to focus on- like trying to shake off its much more powerful attacker. The wolf however paid no attention to the Hollow Heart’s weak attempts and began to shake the Blood god, bodily dragging it away from the two Magi who were both dazed and appeared not to notice what was happening right in front of them. Love sniffed at them, making sure that they were not too badly hurt. He was distracted by another roar of pain from the Hollow Heart. It tried to slash at the wolf but the jaws just bit down all the harder. With a sigh the god allowed itself to go limp, realising it could not win against the far stronger light Ancient. 

“Fine, you win. You can have the Magi.” The Hollow Heart growled through gritted fangs, reaching up to massage the back of its neck the moment the wolf released it. It did not relax however and continued to snarl at the Blood god with hatred shining in its eyes. 

“Get back into whatever hole you crawled out of.” The wolf said, crouching in preparation lest the Hollow Heart try to do anything stupid like try and attack. The Blood gods were well known for their habit of cheating even when the odds were firmly against them and it was a good idea to never turn your back on one. On this occasion though the god really was conceding defeat. Muttering foul curses beneath its breath the Hollow Heart slunk away across the Blood Swamps. When he was sure it was gone the wolf turned and silently padded over to Love. “You alright, little buddy? You should know it’s a bad idea to go after the Blood gods by yourself.” 

Love gave him a small, slightly shaky smile as he picked up on the waves of pain radiating from the two Magi, intensified by the fact the two of them were so closely bonded to one another. It was enough to make him wish he had healing powers like his sister, Creation. “I’m fine, Kindness. It’s th Magi I’m concerned about. The Hollow Heart really did a number of them.” He said, shaking his head and gently prodding John’s arm with his paw. There was a pained groan in response. “The earth Magi is in an especially bad way and I don’t think they’ll survive out here on their own.” 

Kindness padded across to Sherlock and sniffed, scenting the weakness flooding through the Magi as the Hollow Heart’s influence continued to bleed into every part of him. “We should get them to Creation. The earth Magi is fading fast and I wouldn’t want him to die. It has been so long since their kind has been seen here.” He said before grabbing the collar of Sherlock’s robe in his teeth and vanishing in a flash of light. 

Seconds later Kindness was back wearing a bemused expression on his face. Love’s ears pricked up and he trotted forward to stand in Kindness’ shadow. “What is it? Has something happened?” He asked, practically bouncing around Kindness’ paws when he realised he was being ignored. “Tell me, tell me, tell me!” He whined. Being the youngest of the light Ancients Love often behaved like a child. It was one of his more annoying personality traits. 

On this occasion though being annoying actually worked. Rolling his golden eyes Kindness gently put a groaning John back down again. Then he reached out and pinned Love to the ground with a massive paw that easily dwarfed the fox’s bushy tail. “You are giving me a headache little buddy. Just go to the island and see for yourself. I need to transport the electricity Magi and don’t need you getting under my paws. He seems to be suffering nearly as much as the earth Magi is.” Kindness said, lifting his paw and moving to pick up John again. 

Love nodded, his silvery eyes unusually serious for a moment. “There is a strong bond between the two of them.” He said before turning around to find that Kindness had gone without him being aware of it. He cast a nervous glance around the supposedly empty Blood Swamps. There was no way he wanted to still be around when the Hollow Heart decided to come back for another go. Quickly gathering his power tightly around himself he transported himself away, leaving the grey, mist covered swamps empty once more. All that was left behind was a lonely wind howling through the scrubby grass and disturbing the surface of small muddy pools where strange and monstrous creatures slept peacefully once again. 


	13. Rescued by the Wild Hunt

Greg was still trapped deep within an old memory of war when Herne appeared from the mist drifting between the Ghost pines with his wild hunt close behind him, and as a result the human was oblivious to the odd assortment of creatures gathering around him. It had taken longer than he expected to find Greg. The Ghost pines had shielded his presence from any wanting to take their meal from them and Greg was beginning to look faded around the edges the longer the trees continued to feed on him. They were a little angry Herne had managed to track down the human and the mist between the trees was growing thicker as the forest gathered itself to see to the intruders. The wild hunt though remained calm despite the whispering rippling along the fronds as the trees plotted out a plan of action. The hunt had fought the forest before and they knew exactly what they were up against as a result. 

Herne’s attention however was focused almost entirely on Greg. Reaching down he laid a hand on the human’s cheek, noticing the slight tremor coursing through his body. A sorrowful expression settled over his face. “It’s ok. Rest now.” Herne murmured as he tapped his closed fist on the roots that had sunk their needles into the veins of Greg’s arms. The roots hissed quietly but reluctantly withdrew, having to obey the god of nature and wild spaces. Herne sucked in a breath and straightened up. It would not be long before the forest retaliated and he wanted to be ready for it when it did. 

Quickly Herne gathered Greg into his arms and straightened up. The human was cold to the touch and barely responsive. He needed to get him in front of a roaring fire pronto to try and warm some of the life back into him. But considering how impractical that would be here on the edge of a potential battlefield Herne knew he needed to move Greg somewhere else, and, luckily, he knew of just the place. Herne let out a whistle piercing enough to cause several of his wolves to flinch. Seconds later a skeletal black stag strode out of the assembled hunt, stopping before Herne with a graceful bow of his head that went low enough to almost dislodge the barn owl perched on top of one of his branching antlers. 

“What can I do for you, Horned one?” The stag asked in a voice as musical as a stream dancing across a bed of stones. 

Herne let out a sigh as he gently laid Greg across the stag’s back and brushed a strand of hair behind the human’s ear. They were incredibly fragile creatures and it was only the lingering presence of chaotic energy that had saved the human from being drained by the trees within minutes of being caught. Herne wished he had time to investigate the source of the energy but the human was fading fast and needed urgent attention. “Take the human to Creation. She will be waiting for you to turn up.” He said. When the stag showed no sign of moving Herne rested his forehead against the stag’s. “It’ll be alright, Cernunnas. We have gone up against the Ghost Pines before and I am confident we can defeat them this time as well. Just get the human safely to Creation. There are forces bigger than us at work here.” 

Cernunnas bowed, still looking more than a little reluctant. Behind Herne the Ghost Pines were writhing and their roots were breaking through the ground to form a fearsome barrier to sharp thorns. Apparently, the forest was in a particularly bad mood today. “Very well, Horned One. I shall keep the human safe.” He said before turning and breaking into a gallop across the Blood Swamps, his hooves throwing up droplets of muddy water. Though he was unaware of it Cernunnas passed the exact spot where the Hollow Heart had come across Sherlock and John. 

The owl perched on Cernunnas’ antlers tightened her grip and let out an imperious sounding hoot, ruffling her feathers to try and settle them back into some sort of order. It was an attempt that, considering Cernunnas’ current speed, failed when all her feathers immediately flew backwards again. The owl huffed and looked grumpy. “You know you’re going to end up breaking a leg if you stumble in a puddle at this speed.” She said, crossing her arms across her chest. 

As he usually tended to do Cernunnas ignored her and carried on running. He needed to get as far away from the forest as he could before… From behind him came the crunching of bark and the roar of a heavy gale as the forest lashed out with all its power at Herne and the Wild Hunt. Cernunnas was tempted to glance back to see what was going on but knew from experience that it often turned out to be a bad thing to do. Instead he kept going, concentrating on weaving between the pools that were dotted in his path. At the speed he was going it would not take him long to reach Creation’s island. As he ran Cernunnas found himself smiling. He could not remember the last time the Forgotten Realm had been so exciting. Normally all the Wild Hunt got to do was patrol and keep the different ancient gods in line. It was a nice difference to be part of a rescue mission. They had been others from the Mortal Realm before but the gods usually got to them before the Wild Hunt could. 

Gradually the Blood Swamps began to dry out, becoming instead a meadow of sharp edged grass and black petalled flowers that snapped at Cernunnas as he blurred past, unconsciously speeding up a little. He had never been a fan of the Dark Meadows. They were a place only to be crossed when the sun was high in the sky and shining brightly. The Meadows was a strange, haunted landscape of living shadows, staring eyes and gleaming teeth that could strip a body to the bone in seconds before the unfortunate creature even had a chance to scream. Unfortunately, the Dark Meadows were the quickest way to get to Creation’s island from the Ghost Pines and Cernunnas did not think the human would survive if he had tried to detour round them. He just had to go straight through the middle as fast as he could and hope for the best. 

Knowing all this Cernunnas found himself on edge and unable to relax. He swallowed hard and then cleared his throat. “Ghost, could you keep an eye out for Mirrorbirds? I don’t want a flock of those to suddenly catch us unawares. I know some of the wolves have reported an unusually high number of them lately.” Cernunnas said, glancing quickly at the sky. When he found it empty he quickly turned his gaze back to the ground beneath his feet. Tripping and falling here would be a death sentence for all three of them. 

An uneasy silence settled over the little group as Cernunnas continued to speed across the Meadows, following the well-trodden ways that were the only safe paths through the nightmarish landscape. Straying from the paths was not advised because hungry plants slithered and waited in the ditches along either side. A cold shiver ran down Cernunnas’ spine. He hated this place (in fact he hated most of the Forgotten Realm but he felt more strongly about the Meadows) but knew that, unless the humans and the other inhabitants of the Mortal Realm suddenly began to worship Herne and the Hunt again, he would simply have to get used to calling this place home. Though that of course did not mean that he had to like it… Cernunnas’ train of thought was abruptly shattered by a shrill hoot from Ghost. 

“Mirrorbirds incoming!” Ghost cried, hopping off Cernunnas’ antlers and down onto Greg’s back as though, somehow, she could possible protect him from the incoming predators, “There’s at least three of them!” 

Cernunnas swore loudly and jinked to the left, narrowly avoiding a pair of sharp talons slashing down from above. The Mirrorbird shrieked its displeasure and circled back around for another go. It was roughly the size of a large eagle with mirror shard feathers that reflected the surrounding landscape in mesmerising patterns. To stare too long at a Mirrorbirds feathers was to fall beneath its spell and leave you unable to escape. Cernunnas glanced up but the Mirrorbird had already vanished, reflective feathers making it blend in with the grey skies above and rendering it invisible to the ordinary eye. It was this camouflage that made the birds the top predators above the Dark Meadows. 

“Cernunnas, what do we do?” Ghost said, her grey eyes anxiously scanning the sky for any trace of a silvery flash that would be the only sign a Mirrorbird was about to attack. Being at least half smaller than them Ghost knew she did not stand a chance against the formidable creatures. She chewed at one of her talons, an anxious habit Cernunnas often told her off for doing. She wished she was not so weak compared to the monsters of the Forgotten Realm. It was times like these that she found herself really missing the Human Plane and its less deadly way of life. 

“We keep running. Neither of us can fight something that is basically invisible!” Cernunnas snapped as he swerved around a clump of flowers that reached out and tried to trip him with its thorny tendrils. He knew once he was out of the Dark Meadows he would be safe from the Mirrorbirds, providing of course that they could reach Creation’s island. They never strayed far outside of their territory after all. 

Far above Cernunnas the Mirrorbirds circled, eyeing the galloping stag and searching for a weakness they could exploit, for a sign their prey was slowing down or beginning to limp. It was only then that the flock would strike as one, taking down its prey before they could react or even try to fight back. To their delight the birds did not have to wait long. Because of the speed he was going Cernunnas never saw the rocky ground sloping away beneath his hooves until he was upon it and stumbling sideways, barely stopping himself from tumbling head long to the ground. That would have meant an immediate death sentence for the stag and his passengers. 

Instead Cernunnas found himself slightly off balance and limping slightly, which left him unable to pick up his previous rhythm. As a result, he was unable to swerve to avoid the next Mirrorbird attack. With a screech like breaking glass the Mirrorbird swooped low and sunk its wickedly curved beak into Cernunnas’ leg. The stag let out a bellow of pain and instinctively reared, striking out at the Mirrorbird with his hooves. It easily avoided the blow though and gave voice to a derisive caw before signalling to its fellows with a flick of its tail. Tucking back their wings and angling their talons to do maximum damage the other birds dived in preparation for the kill, letting out victorious cries. Cernunnas flinched and stood a little too heavily on his injured leg. He let out a hiss of pain as his legs buckled beneath him and he fell sideways into a thorn bush. The prone body of Greg rolled off Cernunnas’ back and Ghost let out an alarmed hoot, circling above him in a futile attempt to protect him from harm. If the Mirrorbirds really tried to get to the human though there would be nothing Ghost could do. Cernunnas sucked in a breath, preparing himself for the moment the sharp talons would tear into his flesh… 

The Mirrorbirds however never got anywhere near Cernunnas and his precious human cargo. There was a loud neigh, a flash of white wings, and a Pegasus swept into between him and the Mirrorbirds. Stretching her wings out to their full extent the Pegasus reared, slamming its front hooves against the ground with enough force to make the surrounding landscape shake. The Mirrorbirds screamed in fear, knowing full well who was before them. With much flashing of wings and getting into one another’s way the birds fled, their feathers throwing off painful shards of silvery light that made Cernunnas squint when it seared into his eyes. The Pegasus snorted, not moving an inch until she was sure the Mirrorbirds were gone and would not be coming back. 

“Bloody vultures.” The Pegasus muttered, turning to Cernunnas and giving him a smile. The stag let out a strangled gasp and bowed his head, knowing full well who had just saved them. “Oh, stop it, Cernunnas. You know I hate all that worship stuff.” She said, tucking her wings against her back and shaking her mane out of her eyes. “Now that is interesting,” She said thoughtfully, spotting Greg lying beside the stag. “That’s a mortal, isn’t it? Fascinating! There hasn’t been one of those around here for a while.” 

Being careful to keep his weight off his injured leg Cernunnas hauled himself back to his feet. It felt wrong to be sprawled so messily at the hooves of a light Ancient. “Herne rescued him from the Ghost Pine forest and told me to take him to Creation. I was on my way to her island when…” Cernunnas paused, swallowed hard and bowed his antlered head to the Pegasus. “Thank you for saving us. In hindsight I probably should have gone the long way around but the human was so pale and I just didn’t think that would be a good idea…” He trailed off, fully aware he was babbling. 

The light Ancient known to her friends as Dream, and to her enemies as Nightmare, let out a small neighing laugh. “Think nothing of it,” She said, her opalescent eyes shimmering with amusement. Her expression darkened however when she saw the deep gash on Cernunnas’ leg and she gave the stag a hard look. He appeared to be fine with no sign of mirror infection sparkling in the wound. It was a minor miracle part of the bird’s beak hadn’t broken off when it attacked. It was just another thing that made the Mirrorbirds so incredibly deadly. “How would you feel about a lift?” 

Cernunnas tried to put weight on his leg but quickly admitted defeat. He wouldn’t be able to travel much above a walk and he didn’t know if the human would be able to last that long without magical help. He let out a sigh. “I would be incredibly grateful, oh walker of dreams.” He said softly, well aware of the honour of getting to travel with a light Ancient. Without another word Dream unfurled her wings, touching the tip of one to Cernunnas and the other to Greg, who mumbled slightly but quickly relaxed back into his previous comatose state, and summoned the power she needed to cast a teleport spell. Then, in a flash of multi-coloured light, Dream transported them away from the Dark Meadows and onto the island as easily as breathing. 

* * * * 

Back on her island Creation smiled, sensing her sister’s familiar energy, and turned to greet her. “Dream! So good of you to…” Her voice trailed away when she saw Cernunnas’ wound and her eyes widened when she saw what he was carrying on his back. “Why sister, you seem to have brought me something interesting.” She said, quickly heading over to the stag’s side and lifting Greg from his back. “That is a nasty wound you have there. I’m assuming you ran into some trouble.” She glanced up at Dream, waiting for her answer. Dream pawed at the ground with her golden hooves. “Cernunnas and Ghost had a run in with a flock of Mirrorbirds in the Dark Meadows.” She said, peering round Creation at Mycroft sitting on the sand and hugging Rose tightly to his chest. He looked a little unsettled by the new arrivals. Not that Dream could blame him. She was rather an impressive sight after all. Dream frowned. Maybe that was why Creation had called the light Ancients to an urgent meeting. She would have to ask once Creation had finished healing Cernunnas’ wound, but Dream was never very good at waiting. “Apparently these two were instructed by Herne the hunter to bring this mortal to you.” She said, trying to fish for information as she sniffed at Greg. She recoiled from him and the strong scent of chaos that was emanating from him. 

Creation nodded distractedly, most of her attention still on Cernunnas and the paw she had pressed over his wound which glowed faintly from the healing spell she was casting. “Yes, because I instructed Herne to find the mortal and bring him to me. Along with two Magi who are also tainted by chaos energy. Naturally I did not want them to die at the hands of the filthy creatures who call this Realm their home. I already have one magi who got here after being banished by the magi high council.” 

“Chaos?” Dream said, flicking her ears and tipping her head to the side. Sure, she had smelt it on the human but had thought her sense were possibly deceiving her- or at least she had hoped so. “Are you sure? The dark Ancients have never shown an interest in the Forgotten Realm before. I rather thought they had, well, forgotten all about us.” She watched Creation intently, waiting for some sort of reaction, and was therefore a little disappointed when her sister did not reply and carried on healing Cernunnas’ wound. Obviously, their history with the dark Ancients was still something of a sore point for her. 

Several silent seconds passed and then Creation lifted her paw to reveal nothing more than a faint red mark. She let out a heavy sounding sigh and turned her attention to Greg. The human was pale against the golden sand and barely breathing but is was nothing she couldn’t fix. She was just reaching down to lay a hand on his forehead when there was a loud cry from behind her. 

“Greg!” Mycroft cried, dropping Rose so he could run to Greg’s side. With a shocked look in his eyes he fell to his knees and gathered Greg into his arms. When his mate did not stir Mycroft felt his heart skip a beat. “Greg, please, speak to me. Greg? Greg! Wh-what happened to him? Is he ok?” He stammered, his words tumbling over one another in his haste to get them out. He looked up at Creation, looking her straight in the eyes despite the shiver it sent running down her spine. “Please tell me he’s going to be ok! I need to know he’s going to be ok.” 

“He’ll be ok, Mycroft. I can recharge the life energy he lost and then he will just need to sleep, to recover his strength.” Creation answered, her musical voice gentle and without any trace of the faint growl that usually lurked behind it. She smiled when the glass creature, christened Rose by Mycroft, chirped and lightly stroked Greg’s arm. But then a wave of sorrow swept over her and she had to look away, her gaze turning to the sun sparkling on the turquoise sea. It was strange being so close to residual chaos energy after all these years. But then was it only residual energy? It felt a little too strong… Creation shook her head. She did fully intend to investigate further but for now she found herself distracted by the arrival of Kindness and Love, both of whom had an extra passenger with them. 

Mycroft let out a strangled gasp and Creation glanced back at him. Interesting, so the passengers could possibly be the two other Magi Herne had talked about. Creation winced. They also did not look to be in the greatest of shapes. Which wasn’t entirely surprising because if you weren’t an immortal the Forgotten Realms could be an incredibly hostile place. Creation sighed. She wished she could have a word with the Magi High Council because they had really made a mess out of this whole banishment thing. Kindness grinned and bowed his head respectfully to his much older, and powerful siblings. “Greetings, Creation, Dream. Love and I found these two being tortured by the Hollow Heart. We figured you would be able to help them.” 

“Thank you, my brothers. Could you please lay them over with the earth Magi and the human?” Creation said, moving aside so her two siblings could walk past her. They both nodded at Dream as they gently laid John and Sherlock beside Mycroft. All they had to do now was wait for the rest of the light Ancients to turn up. Maybe then they could finally make sense of what was going on. It was rapidly beginning to feel like everything was getting badly out of hand… 


	14. Meanwhile at Trafalgar Square

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has been so long since the last update. It has been horribly hot here in the UK and I've been struggling. Heart transplants and heat do not go together. Still it's better now and I finally feel like writing again. :) Yay!!

Back in the Mortal Realm the Elemental and Modern Magi were still at a stand-off, with neither side wanting to be the one to make the first move. Nobody wanted to be the one who would ignite war between the two sides. It was not something they would ever be able to live down after all. None of the Magi were aware of the dark Ancients watching them with rapidly deteriorating patience- which was probably a good thing because there would only be mass panic if the Magi could see them. They of course knew about the dark Ancients but over the years they had become little more than a fairy tale, a bedtime story to scare young Magi who refused to go to sleep. They were not supposed to be real. The only Magi moving amongst the two armies were the two high councils as they circled one another, searching for any sign that the fragile tension was about to break. Both sides wanted to be prepared for when the first attack came. Hiashi was doing his best to make sure that could not happen by monitoring the thoughts of all those around him, but he had a horrible feeling that the tide was slowly beginning to turn. There was a noticeable chill in the air that had not been there before, and he had the strangest feeling of being watched. But every time he glanced over towards the steps of the National Portrait Gallery it was to find nothing there. Which was strange because he could swear he could sense somebody standing on top of the steps. 

“We don’t have to do this. There has to be a peaceful way we can work this out.” Hiashi said, pleading for the Modern Magi to listen to him. He even put a little extra persuasion behind his words despite mind magic generally being frowned at. In his opinion though, desperate times called for desperate matters and he was willing to do anything if it would calm this situation and prevent war from breaking out. They had to be a way they could negotiate peace. But then Hiashi gaze drifted to Aquarius and a dark expression settled on his face. It was probably a little too late for peace considering what Steel had done to the council representative for the element of water. Aquarius would be walking with a limp for the rest of her life. 

“Work it out?!” Cinder cried, flames shooting from the tips of his fingers, “By fire, Hiashi. No wonder you’re the last of your kind if you believe you can negotiate with the links of the Modern Magi.” He spat, glaring over at Steel, who smirked faintly in response. 

There were sharp intakes of breath from the rest of the Elemental high council while the rest of the surrounding Magi were so silent it was possible to hear the sound of distant traffic as the humans carried on their lives, utterly oblivious to what was happening in the square thanks to a distraction field conquered by Hiashi (he couldn’t know that the dark Ancient were giving him a little help to prevent the field collapsing in on itself. It was a lot of power for a single Magi, even a high council member, to wield at one time). Hiashi’s grip tightened on his staff. It was not the done thing to talk about the spirit Magi’s unfortunate condition. He hated being reminded he was the last of his kind, especially so because it made him angry and meant he forgot to keep his power under control. In the past there had been explosions, mind wipes and other unpleasantness. On this occasion the Elemental high council found their own shadows turning against them and becoming dark spirits that were Hiashi’s to command. “Careful Cinder, I am still the leader of this council. You still have to bow to me.” He said, a threatening tone in his voice as his purple eyes slowly turned black. 

Sensing he had gone too far Cinder took a step back and adverted his eyes. He had to fix this before it got too out of hand. “Forgive me Hiashi. I think the stress of all this,” Here he gestured at the Modern Magi, “is getting to me.” He said with a sigh, reaching out to pat one of his fire hounds on the head. “Now, would you be so kind as to get rid of your spirits? They’re beginning to look a little evil.” 

To Cinder’s, and everybody else relief, the darkness began to drain away from Hiashi’s eyes. “What? Oh yes. Sorry.” The spirit Magi said in reply, raising his staff with the full intention of banishing the spirits he had accidentally summoned. “I’ll get rid of them now.” 

Before he could however the tension drifting in the air reached breaking point and shattered apart with enough violence for its effect to continue resonating for years. None of the Elemental high council saw it coming. 

Throwing his arms in front of him Steel took aim and threw a dagger of sharpened metal at Hiashi’s heart. It flew with deadly precision and would have found its mark if Hiashi had not turned slightly at the last minute to speak to Rowan and Zephyr. 

Hiashi let out a cry and clutched at his shoulder, black blood oozing between his fingers. To him it was little more than a mild inconvenience thanks to his healing powers, but the wider implications of the attack were much more serious. Steel had ignited the spark to start the war between the Elemental and Modern Magi. Off to one side, from where they watched from the steps of the National Portrait Gallery, Pain licked its lips and stood up a little straighter. ‘This was off to a good start already’, Pain thought as the ranks of Elemental Magi exploded with panicked activity, drawing tighter around their high council in an attempt to prevent or discourage any further attacks. 

Gritting his teeth Hiashi slowly pulled the shard of metal from his shoulder. A light breeze brushed past him and he looked round to find Zephyr glaring at Steel with a look of pure hatred in his eyes, his white robes boiling around him as he summoned his power. “How dare you spill the blood of a spirit Magi when you’re not even fit to stand before him!” Zephyr spat with surprising venom. Two vortexes of swirling wind rose up on either side of him, churning up the rubbish so carelessly scattered about the square by the tourists. 

Hiashi winced, realising things were rapidly spiralling out of control. This could go badly if he did not nip the violence in the bud right now. He just hoped he could make the representative for wind see sense. It was not uncommon for Zephyr to fly into short lived but destructive rages. “Zephyr, wait. Maybe there is still a chance we can solve this.” Her voice trailed away when his gaze fell upon the assembled armies and he noticed the hatred shining from so many faces. He let out a heavy sigh and felt his heart sink a little. Sadly, it looked like the time for peace was very much behind them. From now on there would be no turning back. It saddened him to realise there was nothing he could do and that there was no way to prevent it. The war between Elemental and Modern would happen no matter what he did. 

Silence fell. A thick, heavy silence as the world held its breath in a moment of stillness that had the dark Ancients leaning forward in anticipation of the fact that was to come. They were all going to enjoy this and by the looks of it they did not have long to wait. 

Sure enough, barely half a minute later, Cinder let out a bellowed instruction for his fire hounds to attack while Steel screamed for the Modern Magi to charge. There was a moment’s hesitation and then the Modern and Elemental Magi crashed together in a cacophony of screams and shouted spells that sent flashes of light shooting everywhere in a deadly rainbow of colour. Far above the square atop his column the statue of Nelson shook his head and let out a sigh. He had so hoped that this could be avoided… well, it was too late to worry about such things now. The statue had seen something like this before when the Bronze and Stone Magi had been at war and he knew it was almost impossible to stop such a force once it had been set in motion. ‘Especially when there were others manipulating events behind the scenes’, Nelson thought to himself with a sideways glance at the dark Ancients. Still there was nothing to be lost in trying. Taking a deep breath Nelson dropped down off the column, splitting the concrete where he landed and sending out a small shockwave that knocked down the nearest Magi. 

There was confusion for a moment amongst the Magi with each side thinking the other had brought the stone to life, but the Elementals quickly settled down when Nelson motioned to the lions before laying into the Modern Magi with great sweeps of his stone arms. Snarling and baring their stone fangs the lions leapt down off their podiums and joined Nelson in attacking the Modern Magi who were momentarily thrown by the new turn of events. The confusion was only brief though and it was not long before they once again joined in the battle just as fiercely as before. 

The battle was bloody, fierce and everything the Ancients had hoped it would be. War, an armed creature who looked like a cross between a tank and a dragon, was thoroughly enjoying itself. The energy being given off by the fighting Magi was far tastier than the energy given off by the constant wars the humans were so obsessed with fighting and it would easily feed war for millennium. Lucky for War it did not look like the battle would be ending anytime soon either judging by the hatred also coming off the Magi. No, a quick end would require nothing short of a miracle and War was confident nothing like that would be happening anytime soon. War could not know of course the plans currently being put into motion in the Forgotten Realm, plans that could ultimately end up changing the world as everybody and creature knew it. 


	15. Re-united at last

To Mycroft it felt like an age before Greg, John and Sherlock began to finally wake up from the healing trances Creation had put them into while she worked on them and he felt physically drained from spending that time worrying almost constantly. Mycroft still could not believe they were all here, that they had been prepared to risk their lives for him. He let out a sigh and hugged Greg a little tighter. His Mate felt warmer now and the colour had returned to his cheeks, which was an improvement on the pale stillness of half an hour ago. Mycroft had been almost convinced Greg was dead, despite Creation’s assurances to the contrary. He swore his heart had actually stopped for a second when he had first laid eyes on Greg and he had felt weak with relief when he had taken his first deep breath. This would be the second time in as many days Greg had been close to death, a statistic Mycroft was uncomfortably aware was mostly due to him. He did not think he would be able to forgive himself if it happened again. From now on, he vowed to himself, he would make sure no more harm could come to Greg. 

Mycroft swallowed hard and glanced over at Sherlock with a fond expression on his face. His little brother was alarmingly good at getting himself into trouble and he should have known he would end up in the Forgotten Realm sooner or later. This time though was definitely one of the worst. Sherlock’s light green robe was almost unrecognisable beneath all the blood stains- many of them appearing to have been newly inflicted. Mycroft shook his head. He had only been here for a day and a half and yet, somehow, everything had managed to go horribly wrong…. 

Seconds later his train of thought was shattered by a sound that sent a wave of relief crashing over him and was strong enough to cause tears to run down his cheeks. Greg let out another moan and began to stir. Mycroft’s heart skipped again. Thank the earth! He had begun to worry that Greg would never wake up. 

“Greg? Dear heart. Can you hear me?” Mycroft asked, keeping his voice soft so he did not startle him. He was aware of Creation watching him from where she was talking with her siblings, but he ignored him, wanting to keep his full attention fixed on Greg’s slowly, opening eyes. He had almost lost him once and never wanted to take his eyes off him again if he could help it. He held his breath and gently stroked Greg’s forehead. Please, please, let him be ok. 

A long unbearable second passed and then, to Mycroft’s huge relief, the brown eyes opened, blinked rapidly a few times and then widened in surprise when he saw who was hovering above him. “Mycroft.” He said in a voice that was little more than a croak. Creation’s healing powers were capable of working miracles but often left people feeling tired and a little dazed afterwards. He still had enough strength to fling his arms around Mycroft’s shoulders and hug him tightly. “Oh, thank god you’re ok!” 

Then to Mycroft’s horror Greg burst into loud, noisy sobs, his shoulders heaving as he buried his head in Mycroft’s shoulder to try to muffle them. The earth Magi lightly kissed his Mate on the head. It had been a tough couple of days and Mycroft could not blame him for being overwhelmed. “It’s alright. We’re together now and that’s all that matters.” He murmured into Greg’s hair, enjoying the feeling of a warm body in his arms once again. He had been so sure he would never see Greg again when he was banished. “You’re safe now. I won’t let anything hurt you.” 

Greg let out a shaky breath. “It was horrible- so cold and so much death…” He stammered in a voice that was partially muffled by Mycroft’s grubby robe. “I was so afraid I would die without getting to see you again.” 

Mycroft hugged his Mate a little harder. “I still can’t believe you’re actually here. I didn’t think I would ever get to see you again,” He murmured before taking a deep breath, “Which brings me to what I am dying to know, how by earth did you get here, Dear Heart?” 

Still sniffing back tears Greg pulled away a little so he could look Mycroft in the eye. There was a wry smile on his face when he saw the curiosity in the earth Magi’s eyes. “I don’t know if you’d believe me if I told you. Looking back now it seems impossible that any of it really happen and yet…” He glanced over at the light Ancients, “the evidence before me is impossible to ignore.” 

Mycroft chuckled, thinking back to his initial reaction to Creation and her siblings. “I don’t think anything could surprise me anymore.” He said. 

Greg considered this, his gaze fixed on Creation the entire time. “You’re probably right. This entire place is impossible.” He said with a small nod before taking a deep breath to prepare himself for what he was about to say. It was going to sound crazy saying it out loud. “After you were banished and before I could have my memory wiped- “Creation sucked in a sharp breath but didn’t interrupt- “I found myself face to face with a being known as Chaos, who told me it could get me into the Forgotten Realm, if I did one little thing for it.” 

Mycroft’s arms loosened and fell limply to his sides. He really did not like the sound of that. Apparently, the light Ancients felt the same because all of them looked concerned by this revelation. Mycroft swallowed. “And what was that one little thing, Dear Heart?” He asked, his heart rate accelerating as fear gripped him. At the same time though he found himself idly wondering whether Chaos had anything to do with the Ancients. It was always possible he was a distant cousin or something. 

In answer Greg unbuttoned his shirt and drew out an extremely crumpled letter which he held out towards Creation. A look of surprise flashed across the dragon’s features and her claws were shaking slightly as she took the envelope, ignoring the curious glances her siblings were directly her way. The other light Ancients exchanged worried looks. They knew that nothing good could come out of this. Even the twins, Harmony and Serenity, looked concerned about this latest development. 

“A letter? For me? Really?” Creation said, sounding perplexed as her golden eyes stared at Greg with an intensity that was making him feel uncomfortable. “Surely there must be a mistake. Nobody in the Mortal Realm knows we’re trapped here.” Well, that wasn’t entirely true, but Creation was not ready to give up all her secrets to the unfortunates trapped in the Forgotten Realm with them. 

Greg shook his head. “No mistake. Chaos asked for Creation by name.” He said before his attention was drawn by the prone forms of John and Sherlock, neither of them yet showing any sign of stirring. “Bloody hell! What happened to them?” 

Before Mycroft could say anything, Creation began to talk in a low, shaky sounding voice. She could not believe any of this was really happening. “Just like you they fell afoul of a creature who calls the Forgotten Realm their home. I have put them into a healing trance to give their bodies a chance to rest and heal. So far it seems to be working well and they should hopefully be waking up in a few hours.” 

Not really knowing how to reply to this Greg rested his head on Mycroft’s shoulder. Seconds later he let out a yelp when he discovered a small pink glass creature tugging on his arm and whining quietly beneath its breath. Mycroft smiled and picked it up with his free hand, including it in his and Greg’s embrace. “Greg, I’d like you to meet Rose. We’ve kind of ended up adopting one another.” Mycroft said a little nervously, unsure how his Mate would react to the news. As it turned out he never had anything to worry about. 

Greg stared at Rose for a moment before a smile spread across his face. “Hello Rose, it’s nice to meet you.” He said softly, reaching out to lightly touch the top of the glass creature’s head. Rose purred in response and looked up at him with wide, trusting eyes. “She’s kinda sweet.” Personally, Greg had never really thought about children, but he was more than willing to consider it- especially now he could see the loving expression in Mycroft’s eyes as he gazed down at Rose. 

Meanwhile, throughout this exchange, Love had been watching Greg and Mycroft with interest but now had to reluctantly tear his gaze away in favour of Creation, who had finally torn open the letter and was reading it intently. Her scales lost some of their glow as she tried to make sense of what she was reading. There was no way this could be true, was there? Why would Destruction and Chaos want to help them? She let out a weary sounding sigh and shook her head. Suddenly she felt very, very old. 

“What is it? What does it say?” Love cried, bounding around Creation’s paws like an excitable puppy. The dragon watched him for a moment, then reached out and tried to gently swat him away. Love yelped in protest and hastily jumped out of the way. “I only wanted to know what the letter said.” He said, looking so sad and dejected that Creation found herself feeling momentarily sorry for her younger brother. He could be annoying at times, but his heart was usually in the right place. 

She held out the letter to him. “Why don’t you have a look for yourself? Maybe you could even read it out to the others.” She said, sounding a little distant as she stared absently into space. 

Love awkwardly grasped the letter in one paw and eagerly pulled it down so he could read it easier. Then he cleared his throat and slowly began to read the words aloud. “My beloved Creation. It has been so long since last we saw one another. The Human Plane and the Mortal Realm are falling apart- the delicate balance between light and dark is tipping precariously towards Chaos. We both know that if one of the Realm’s fall, all the rest will fall too. We need you and your siblings back here before that can be allowed to happen. Chaos promised me that once it has found a suitable messenger it will send this letter to you and entrust its bearer with a key that has the power to let people into and out of the Forgotten Realm. I can only hope that this letter finds you well and that you will soon be restored to your rightful place in the Seven Realms. Here’s to a swift reunion, my beloved Creation. I can only hope we will see one another again soon.” Love’s voice gradually grew quieter as he read through the letter. 

It seemed too incredible to be true. Could Destruction and Chaos really be helping them try to escape? Love glanced up at Creation. Like the rest of the light Ancients he had always known there was something between Destruction and Creation, but he had never realised the depth of their emotion until this moment. Before he could dwell on it any further though his siblings all began shouting at once as they all tried to get their opinions about the letter heard. All of them were convinced that their opinion should be the one to be heard first. 

“What! There’s no way this can be real! It has to be a trap.” Kindness cried, his lips drawing back in a snarl that showed off all his sharp teeth. 

Beside him Dawn stamped her front hoof down onto the sand. “The right question I think you’ll find is, why is Destruction only doing this now?” She said, hoping the others would listen to her. 

Creation shook her head, some of the distantness fading from her eyes as she forced herself to focus. “I don’t know why Destruction has chosen now to act. I can only guess something serious has happened back in the Mortal Realm…” She trailed off and glance down at Greg, “There’s only one way we can discover the truth behind this for certain. Greg, do you still have the key Chaos gave to you?” She asked, holding out a massive paw. 

Greg’s face fell, and his gaze dropped to Rose, who had apparently drifted off to sleep in his and Mycroft’s arms. “I lost it when I arrived here. I-I think I might have dropped it.” He said, sounding crestfallen. The worst thing was that he could not even remember where he might have lost it. 

Creation frowned at the human. But if that was true why could she still sense Chaos’ influence so strongly on her island. It couldn’t be the letter because that had long ago picked up Greg’s scent. Which meant that something else had to be tainted with Chaos. Before she could investigate further there was a cry of joy from Mycroft and she looked round to find John and Sherlock beginning to stir. Creation breathed a sigh of relief. So, the Hollow Heart had not damaged them permanently after all. That was something to be glad about. 

Gently disentangling himself from Greg and Rose Mycroft rushed to his brother’s side and waited with bated breath for him to open his eyes. He did not have to wait long. With a groan Sherlock tried to shake some of the cramp out of his muscles before opening his eyes. Immediately a smile spread across his face when he found Mycroft gazing down at him with concern in his eyes. The concern however quickly turned into relief when he saw Sherlock was looking back at him and he let out a breath he had not realised he had been holding. 

“You had me worried for a moment there, Brother Mine.” Mycroft said, resting his palm against the new bloodstain on Sherlock’s robes and trying not to wince. His poor brother looked like he belonged on the set of a horror movie. When all this was over they would have to see about having some new robes made. “I can’t believe you were actually stupid enough to follow me here! You could have both been killed!” He cried, white hot anger rising within him at the thought of how close he had come to losing his younger brother. Why couldn’t have Sherlock have stayed out of trouble just for once in his life? His anger however did not last, and he began to fade the instant he noticed the haunted look in Sherlock’s eyes. In truth he was incredibly grateful his brother would willingly exile himself, knowing full well there was no escape from this godforsaken Realm. At least this way he and Greg would not have to suffer through all this alone. He let out a sigh and squeezed his eyes shut. “Thank you for coming after me.” He said, his voice barely audible. 

An unreadable expression flashed across Sherlock’s face. “It isn’t like we had much of a choice. One moment we were standing in Trafalgar Square staring at the spot where you’d just disappeared, and the next we were here in the Forgotten Realm. I have no idea how we ended up here.” He said in a quiet voice that sounded as though it was shaking slightly. His hand was shaking too as he reached down to gently lay a hand on John’s forehead. Though the electricity Magi had stirred slightly he still did not show any sign of waking up anytime soon. All Sherlock could hope for was that no permanent damage had been done. He would never forgive himself if something happened to John. 

Meanwhile, throughout this exchange, Creation had been trying to pinpoint where the Chaos taint was coming from. At first it had been almost impossible but when John had moved slightly, and the taint had grown stronger, she had known exactly where the key could be found. Creation found herself shaking her head. Somehow Chaos’ plans always had a way of working themselves out in the end. Not everything the dark Ancient touched ended in destruction and death. Regardless of everything that had taken place, the key had ended up right where it needed to be. Creation cleared her throat. “Tell me, Sherlock Holmes, what does your Mate have in his left-hand pocket at this precise moment?” She asked with a secretive smile on her face. She was aware of her siblings watching her with looks of bemused interest as they tried to work out what she was going on about. It was several seconds before Harmony let out a muffled gasp and Creation smiled at him. At least one of her siblings had worked it out. 

Sherlock looked confused for a moment, but did as Creation asked, slowly pulling out a large golden key. Sherlock’s eyes widened. The key glinted brightly in the sunlight, seeming to warp the air around it if you looked too closely at it. It was a little unsettling and Sherlock found himself quickly looking away from it, focusing on John’s face instead. Greg stared incredulously at the key. “But that’s the one Chaos gave to me. He took me to a ravine, told me I’d figure it how it works eventually and then dropped me off a bridge! How the hell do you have it?” He demanded, feeling hatred for Chaos and everything the creature had put him through. That drop into a seemingly bottomless darkness would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life. He began to shake and was grateful when Mycroft slung one arm around his shoulder and hugged him close. 

“I have no idea, Greg. How could I when I don’t even know how John and I ended up here?” Sherlock said, shrugging as he did so. “I’m sorry.” 

There was silence for a moment, broken only by the heavy breathing of the incredible creatures assembled upon the island. Then Creation reached forward and lightly plucked the key from Sherlock’s shaking fingers. She would not be surprised if the earth Magi could feel Chaos’ power resonating from the key. The instant her claws touched the cold, golden metal there was a flash of light followed by a muffled whump of air that had the light Ancients instinctively throwing up shields of protection around themselves with Love having the sense to cast one around their Magi and human guests as well. It took a second for the cloud of sand to settle and once it had they found nothing but an odd looking wooden door that had suddenly appeared from nowhere. Creation frowned and, lowering her shield, went to take a step forward. 

Kindness sucked in a breath. “Careful sister. You know you can’t trust Chaos.” He said, his hackles rising as he padded around the door on silent grey paws. Love trotted in his wake, scenting curiously at the air with his sharp red nose before sneezing violently. The taint of chaos was strong upon the air, strong enough to make all the light Ancients feel uncomfortable. 

Sherlock and Mycroft stared at the door, both able to feel the waves of power radiating from it. It made them feel oddly weak and vulnerable by comparison. They both knew they were nothing when compared to the almighty power of the Ancients. 

A slow smile spread across Creation’s scaly features. “While that may be true, Kindness, this is the best chance we’ve had to escape from this place in several millennia. It would be foolish of us to turn this down. None of us like being trapped here.” 

“I agree with Creation. This may be the best chance we ever get. It doesn’t matter why Chaos has done this, I think we should just take the opportunity before it closes.” Dream said, tossing her silvery mane out of her eyes as she regarded the doorway with a critical eye. It looked safe enough and, from a cursory glance at least, there did not appear to be any obvious traps. 

Creation nodded at Dream in gratitude, glad at least one of her siblings was backing her up, and then turned to the rest of the light Ancients. “Well, that’s settled then,” She said, clapping her paws together, “We go through the door and see where we end up. It would be foolish for us to look such a gift in the mouth. It might be our only chance to return to the Mortal Realm.” 

Reaching over to take Greg’s hand Mycroft cleared his throat loudly, wincing when every single light Ancient turned to look in their direction. He swallowed hard, disliking the attention. “Wh-what,” He stuttered bad enough to force him to briefly pause so he could compose himself, “What about us? I’m assuming we get to come with you.” 

Identical grins spread across the beaks of the twins, Harmony and Serenity as they spread their vast white wings out above their heads. Up until this moment the two swans had remained silent, preferring to watch what was going on from the side-lines. “We’re not about to leave you here to fend for yourselves!” Harmony cried. “You barely survived it the first time. Of course, you’re coming with us.” Serenity continued. 

“I can carry the electricity Magi!” Love piped up, wending his way between the claws and paws of his much larger siblings with an enthusiasm that made Kindness laugh. 

“That’s kindly received, little buddy but I think you’re a little on the small side.” Kindness pointed out as tactfully as he could. “Why not let me do it instead?” He asked before feeling a hand lightly touching his fur. He looked round to find Sherlock looking at him with a conflicted expression on his face. It was obvious the Magi wanted something. “Can I help you?” 

Sherlock was still shaking but he was steadier then he had been since he was attacked outside the Elemental Magi headquarters, and his wounds were no longer hurting. It allowed him to stand a little straighter and had given back some of the spark that always shone from his eyes. He was a little more like his old self, but he would never be the same as he once was. Going through an incredible amount of suffering has that effect on people. You come out of it stronger but there is always something missing. “I should be the one to carry him. I am his Mate after all.” 

Kindness bowed his head to acknowledge the request and stepped aside so Sherlock could kneel and gather John into his arms. He struggled slightly to lift him, but nobody stepped in to help. They all understood that this was something he needed to do himself. 

And then there was nothing else to delay them from stepping through the doorway. Creation, being the strongest and the oldest of the light Ancients, went first. She wanted to be able to protect the others if they did indeed step into trouble. They did not after all have any idea where the doorway was going to lead them. They could only hope it would be a relatively quiet and stable part of the human plane, for there were many parts torn by war and destruction that would be bad to end up in the middle of. The other light Ancients followed in her wake with Love and Kindness either side of Sherlock, Mycroft and Greg like a guard of honour. 

The door rippled slightly every time somebody walked through it and every time this happened there was an echoing ripple from Creation’s bubble, as though the magic of one was feeding off the magic of the other. After four of the light Ancients had gone through the door the bubble had noticeably shrunk by several inches. None of the light Ancients noticed though, they were too preoccupied with the fact they were finally escaping the place where they had been trapped for so long. Even Dream who momentarily turned back for one last look at the island did not notice what was happening to the bubble. None of them were particularly going to miss the Forgotten Realm and in all honesty, Dream was actually glad to finally be shot of it. Turning to face the doorway Dream let out a sigh before she carefully took a step forward into the unknown. 


	16. An unforseen complication

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I managed to upload an entire chapter for once. Sure it's only short but it is the first time I haven't posted something in installments. Long may it continue! :D I hope you enjoy it and I can't wait to write up the next chapter. Things are getting interesting very quickly in the Magi world.

It was another five minutes before the bubble finally collapsed but a huge variety of the Forgotten Realms creatures had already been attracted by the rapidly diminishing energy field, with many of them able to sense it from miles around. One of the first to arrive was the Blatherskite, peering out from beneath its black hood at the sandy edges of the island suddenly appearing like magic in the centre of the Blood Swamps. It was not long before it was joined by others- including several Blood Gods who were already licking their lips in anticipation. They were able to smell the doorway and the world beyond it, knowing full well that a feast awaited them when they got there. They also knew that it would be several hours before the doorway finally closed, giving them plenty of time to travel to the Mortal Realm at their own leisure. Chaos of course had no idea what it had left in its wake but then the dark Ancient could not really be blamed. It was only doing what it did best after all, even if, this time at least, it was not actually intended. 

The creatures of the Forgotten Realm waited impatiently for the bubble around the island to vanish, eyeing one another suspiciously the entire time they were forced to stand in such close proximity with one another. It was rare for most of them to even close paths on a regular basis. They were all highly developed and very territorial predators, and it made for an uneasy tension that hung over the little scene. Seconds later though every creature attention was drawn to the bubble as, with a final fizzle of energy and a flash of brilliant white light, it collapsed completely, exposing the island to the grey corruption of the Forgotten Realm. 

A slow smile spread across the Hollow Heart’s features. They had been trapped in this Realm for so long and finally there was a way out. It was an opportunity to be seized before it could slip away. A hand gripped the Hollow Heart’s shoulder and the god let out a snarl of warning as razor sharp claw tips dug into its flesh. It spun round to find one of its fellow Blood gods grinning at it with black blood dripping from its blind eyes. 

“Well, what are we waiting for? That filthy little serpent, the Blatherskite, has already gone through! It will take all the best pickings for itself before we can even get there.” The Dripping Eye blood god hissed, releasing its sharp grip on the Hollow Heart so it could make its way over to the doorway. When there the blood god peered into the darkness beyond the boundary but was unable to see anything. “We’re never going to get another chance like this.” 

The Hollow Heart bared its fangs in something only loosely resembling a smile. “Now, now. If it really does lead to the Mortal Realm there will be plenty enough food for all of us.” It said, striding forward across the golden sand so it was standing beside the Dripping Eye. It could not see anything either. “Let’s go and see what awaits us on the other side.” The Hollow Heart continued, rubbing its claws together in glee at the thought of what awaited them. All those defenceless humans who had no idea what was about to hit them…they would not even stand a chance. Grinning at one another the two blood gods stepped through together. 

Once the two gods had vanished through the doorway the golden sand of the island was left empty once again. Well empty apart from the pair of pearlescent eyes that were just above the level of the sapphire blue water that was slowly being infected by streaks of grey from the surrounding Blood Swamps. Though it was a little too warm for it the Drowned god had not wanted to move and risk drawing attention to itself when some of the Forgotten Realms most dangerous predators had turned up on the previously idyllic island that had so often been a safe haven for the god. It was going to miss Creation and the rest of the light Ancients. Any of the Blood gods could easily defeat the Drowned god in a fight and it had thought it best to remain hidden from sight. Which meant that the Drowned god had seen and heard everything that had taken place between the Hollow Heart and the Dripping Eye. 

When it was sure they would not be returning the Drowned god heaved its bloated body out of the water and gazed at the scene before it. Already the grey mist of the Blood Swamps was causing Creation’s conjured sunlight to look hazy as the Forgotten Realm began to reclaim the tiny oasis. It made for an unsettling sight and the Drowned god let out a sigh. It would miss spending hours bathing in the warmth of the sunlight. Shaking its head, the god eyed the doorway thoughtfully. Maybe it too should go through the doorway and see where it ended up. It could after all end up being somewhere lovely and warm… well, it didn’t really have anything to lose anyway. Decision made the Drowned god slithered forward and somehow managed to force its bloated bulk through the door. In its wake a violent ripple passed across the island, causing several cracks to appear in the ground as it continued to disintegrate. 

Like the creatures before it the Drowned god had no idea it was being watched as it entered the doorway. In their single-minded anticipation at the imminent prospect of freedom from this horrible place none of the creatures had noticed the small ragtag group of wolves, birds of prey, stags and various mythical creatures slowly limping their way across the Blood Swamps towards the island. They had been shocked to witness the collapse of the bubble and even more horrified as they watched the dangerous creatures of the Forgotten Realm flood through the all too open doorway. Despite their injuries sustained during the battle with the Ghost Pine forest Herne and his wild hunt forced themselves to speed up so they could reach the doorway before it could vanish. 

Herne had no idea where the door had come from or who might have created it but even from here he could recognise the signature of the place it led to. He knew with an icy certainty that it would mean chaos for whatever part of the Mortal Realm the creatures emerged into. In a way the wild hunt had no choice but to follow them. Herne would never be able to forgive himself if thousands of innocent lives were taken just because the Blood gods and the Blatherskite had gone a little overboard in enjoying their freedom. Herne dropped his head, fatigue briefly overtaking him. The fight against the Ghost Pine forest had been surprisingly brutal, with the trees taking more offense than usual at having their meal taken from them. Herne had no idea why and could only assume some of the chaos energy tainting the human had rubbed off on the Ghost Pines and made them unpredictable. It was the only explanation for the overly vicious attack. 

Herne’s heart sank a little when he saw the shimmering effect around the edges of the doorway, followed by it noticeably and very rapidly beginning to collapse in on itself. The wild hunt was in no state to run but they would need to if they stood a hope of getting through the door before it vanished completely. Despite the thorns embedded in his leg Herne forced himself to pick up the pace, and the rest of the hunt was quick to follow his lead. There was no sign of Cernunnas on the island and Herne could only hope he had already gone through the door with the light Ancients- provided of course that he had even managed to reach the island with the injured human weighing him down… Herne roughly pushed the thought to one side. He had other more pressing things to worry about right now- like how he was going to get his entire hunt through a doorway that was no smaller then he was. Glancing back over his shoulder to check that nobody had fallen behind Herne gave the command for a charge. 

With a noise like thunder stags, wolves and a single tree spirit galloped madly across the sand, trying to ignore the chaos energy hanging heavy in the air all around them. For creature of order like them it was like a thousand electrical shocks prickling across their skin. Going through the doorway itself would be akin to agony. 

Herne hung back when he reached the door, making sure that everyone else got through safely before he joined them. He did not want any of his people to end up trapped alone in the Forgotten Realm for the rest of time because he had a feeling there would not be another chance to escape. The door barely reached Herne’s stomach by the time the final wolf had gone into the darkness. He wished he knew where they would end up, so he could at least be a little prepared for what they might face, but he knew all too well that it would be a wasted wish. He took a deep breath. Well, here went nothing. Taking a deep breath to try and calm his pounding heart Herne ducked down and crawled awkwardly through on all fours. It was so undignified he was glad there was nobody else around to witness it. 

Then he too had vanished into the unknown, leaving Creation’s island to be swallowed up by the Blood Swamps- the grey water washing over the sand while high above tendrils of mist obscured the final light of the sun. Minutes after the doorway had finally vanished from existence there was nothing to show the island had ever been there. Just like the Realm and the creatures who had been forced to call it home the island had already been forgotten- a beacon of light extinguished by the grey hopelessness that hung over the Forgotten Realm. Now it was the turn of the Mortal Realm to play host to its creatures. 


	17. In which Trafalgar Square begins to feel crowded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I finally finished updating this chapter. :) The next chapter will be up before christmas. Yay!

At first nobody noticed the glowing dragon made of starlight that had appeared in the square out of thin air, allowing Creation to examine the scene before her with a critical eye before people began to demand just what the hell she was supposed to be. There were no humans present and Creation found herself feeling glad at this small fact. It would have been a shame for any innocents to have been mixed up in all this. The battle raging before her was a fierce one and already the ground was littered with prone bodies dressed in robes of all colours. It would have almost looked pretty if not for the sinister meaning behind it. A wave of sadness washed over Creation and she hung her head. This was what happened when light and darkness were out of balance- one side should never be stronger than the other or have more influence. When they did it resulted in the crumbling of boundaries and the destruction of previously peaceful societies. It should not have been hard after all for the Modern and Elemental Magi to find a way to live beside one another. There was no need for them to go to war. Creation didn’t get to dwell on these thoughts for long however and was shaken out of them by the horrified cries of Greg, Mycroft and Sherlock as they laid eyes upon the battlefield. Behind them the rest of the light Ancients wore grim expressions. 

“By earth!” Mycroft exclaimed, his face turning white as he witnessed an air Magi summoning a vast tornado of swirling black cloud. The Magi paused for a moment, obviously scanning the massed ranks of Modern Magi for a suitable target, before unleashing the destructive column of air into a closely packed group of metal Magi who were advancing upon an injured water Magi. They tried to fight back, to defend themselves but their powers didn’t even touch the tornado. Mycroft looked away, not wanting to see any more as the powerful blasts of air tore them apart. “It wasn’t this bad when we left, was it?” He swallowed hard and let go of Greg’s hand, so he could cradle Rose’s head against his shoulder. He didn’t want her witnessing any of this. “I know for a fact that the Modern Magi weren’t here when I was banished. I like to think I would have noticed them.” 

Creation let out a weary sounding sigh. “I have a horrible feeling that War may be behind this. It’s the only explanation for why things might have escalated so quickly. I can sense its presence upon the air.” 

By now the rest of the light Ancients had joined their elder sister upon the stairs of the National Portrait Gallery and gazed down at the battle with sorrowful expression. It hurt them to feel the waves of negative energy being given off by the warring Magi. Love and Kindness seemed to be particularly finding it hard and stood there with their teeth bared, and their ears plastered flat against their skulls. It was taking a phenomenal effort not to just go down there and sort it out. They both knew though that wouldn’t be a good idea until they figured out where the dark Ancients were hiding. At the moment they had the element of surprise. 

Dream glanced quickly around at the square before tossing back her head to try and flick a strand of mane from her eyes. “Speaking of War… Where is it and the rest of foul counterparts? I would have expected them to be here somewhere enjoying the carnage they have caused.” Dream said after searching for the dark Ancients and finding no trace of them. It unsettled her a little. With so much negative energy in the air there should be some sign of them. There was no way they would miss something this big. 

Kindness sniffed at the air, wincing slightly at the powerful stench of chaos energy that stung his nostrils. He let out a quiet growl. “They must be here somewhere! This entire area stinks of their corruption…” Then from out of nowhere, almost as though they had been listening all along and just waiting to make a dramatic entrance, the dark Ancients appeared from nowhere on the steps beside them, seeming to form out of thin air. “Guys, I think we’ve found them.” Kindness growled as he hastily took a step back and positioned himself in front of Love, almost hiding the small light Ancient from view. The dark Ancients were so close he could reach out and touched them if he so wanted. He however didn’t plan on going anywhere near them if he could help it. 

Sensing a presence standing beside it Pain glanced round and its eyes widened when it saw who was beside it. “What the hell are you doing here? You and the rest of the light Ancients should be trapped in the Forgotten Realm…” Its voice trailed away when it spotted the doorway and sensed the chaos energy emanating from it. With a snarl it rounded on the Ancient responsible, refusing to believe that Chaos really could have anything to do with this. There was no way its sibling could have been so stupid… Pain’s heart sank when it saw the sheepish expression in Chaos’ swirling, multi-coloured eyes. “For the love of darkness, Chaos, why would you do this? They were banished to that Realm for a reason.” Pain snapped, turning to glare meaningfully at Destruction who refused to meet its gaze. 

Chaos took a step forward, placing itself between the two opposing groups of Ancients and glared back at Pain. “I did it my sister because I had no choice! Though none of you have apparently noticed, the Human Plane is beginning to fall apart at the edges. There are disasters in places where they shouldn’t even happen, ridiculous heatwaves and humanity itself is now tearing itself apart with its incessant wars. And we are partially responsible for this! Darkness require light to balance it out.” Chaos said, silently pleading for its siblings to listen to it. It was to be disappointed however. 

With a snort of disbelief, a sly expression crept onto Terror’s face, making the dark Ancient look even more nightmarish than usual. “Oh really, that’s the only reason why you wanted them to return?” Terror said with a sideways glance at Destruction, who was gazing down at the pavement and deliberately avoiding everybody’s eyes. 

“I would say there was more to this than first appears.” War jeered, its red and orange eyes gleaming like small explosions as it glanced over at Creation. The light Ancient looked distinctly uncomfortable at the attention being directed her way and her silvery body was shot through with delicate lines of pink blush reminiscent of an early morning sunrise. And so, she should look uncomfortable- she was partly responsible for all this after all. 

Before Creation, or anyone else for that matter, could say anything in reply to War a piercing scream cut through the air as the first Magi spotted the creatures towering above them. Really, thought Sherlock, it was amazing they had gone un-noticed for this long. Now they were both in the same realm as one another neither the dark or the light Ancients were able to shield any more- meaning their terrible and wonderous glory was there for all to see. 

Greg meanwhile stared in shock at the dark Ancients for a long moment before he nudged Mycroft and pointed at the black and red pulsating body of Pain. “That’s the creature I saw in Battersea.” He paused and swallowed hard, finding himself reliving memories he would rather forget. Sensing his sadness Rose chirped loudly and reached over to take his hand. Despite the tears in his eyes Greg found himself able to smile down at her. He took a deep breath, pausing the sadness down as he did so. There would be time to dwell on such memories later when all this was over. “That’s the creature who kept whispering to me at Battersea- telling me that you weren’t coming for me.” 

Mycroft’s normally placid eyes darkened with anger and he found himself clenching his fists. All around him tendrils of ivy burst through the pavement and writhed in the air like angry rattlesnakes about to strike out at a victim. He could still remember vividly the expression of relief in Greg’s eyes when he and Sherlock had turned up at Battersea. A red-hot anger rose within him. Sure, it was a suicidal urge, but he found himself wanting to make Pain pay for trying to destroy Greg’s hope. Beside him he was aware of Sherlock summoning his power too and a grim smile spread across his face. At least he wouldn’t be alone. 

John however, because he was apparently the only sensible one out of their little group, rolled his eyes and let out a loud snort. “By sparks you two, why are you suddenly determined to get yourselves killed?” He cried, grabbing hold of their robes to stop them from launching their attacks at the dark Ancient who appeared highly amused by the whole thing. “We don’t even know what these things are capable of!” 

Despite the insults being flung their way by the Magi the light and dark Ancient’s remained oblivious to them. They were too busy staring in horror at Destruction and Creation who, un-noticed by all of them, were slowly walking towards one another with hesitant steps. Their attention was focused entirely on each other and they didn’t hear the other Ancients demanding to know what the hell they were doing. Chaos was the only one who looked somewhat pleased at what was happening. This had been the plan all along after all, to get Destruction and Creation back together once again. All Chaos could do now was to hope that their reunion didn’t end up tearing the Human Plane to pieces- finished off a process that had started from the moment the light Ancients had been banished. 

The Modern and Elemental Magi watched in silence, the war between the two sides momentarily forgotten in wake of something that was obviously much bigger than they were. To many of them the Ancients were nothing but bedtime stories, old legends that had long ago faded into being fiction. It was a shock to discover they were in fact real and, by the looks of it at least, just as powerful as the stories said. With sinking hearts, the older Magi and the two high councils found themselves remembering a very important fact about the dark Ancients- that their appearance normally signified the end of an era. It made their civil war seem petty and pointless by comparison. 

Death snarled and bared its sharp teeth in a grimace. So, this was what Destruction and Chaos had been up to all those times it had caught them whispering together. They had been plotting to return the light Ancients to the Mortal Realm. None of them had seen this coming. How could they when the light Ancients were supposed to be their worst enemies, when they were supposed to be trapped in a place from which there was no escape? Death could not believe Destruction and Chaos would do something like this. Death went to take a step forward but was stopped by a wall of darkness cast in its path by Chaos. 

Death let out a snarl of annoyance. “What do you think you are doing, little brother? This is going to tear this realm apart.” Death said, its eyes flashing as it glared at Chaos. 

Chaos grinned at its sibling and gazed down at long white claws that morphed into claws seconds later. It never felt comfortable remaining in one form for too long. “We need this to happen. The seven Realms are out of balance and everything is sliding down into chaos. Which is great, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t want everything to be destroyed. Just the other day part of one of the Underground Realms crumbled away to nothing…something I’m surprised you didn’t sense my sister.” It said with a sideways glance at Death. 

“I felt a disturbance- of many souls crossing the boundary- but I never imagined it was because of a Realm disappearing.” Death answered, eyes wide as it stared at Chaos and tried to process what it had just said. The Underground Realms were home to many displaced mythical creatures and it was sad to think there could be some species that had vanished forever because of their actions. Before it could dwell on this thought much longer a cold shiver coursed down Death’s spine as it sensed another disturbance in the fabric of the Mortal Realm- more creatures were coming through Chaos’ door. 

Death was not the only one to have sensed it. As one all the Ancients, except Destruction and Creation, turned towards the doorway. When Chaos saw the Hollow Heart standing there with a massive grin of joy on its face the dark Ancient winced and tried to bid a hasty retreat before anyone realised what was going on, that things were about to get even worse. It did not get far before War directed a fierce glare in its direction. 

“What by darkness have you done, Chaos? You just can’t stop yourself from screwing things up, can you?” War snapped, its fiery red eyes flashing. 

The Magi, unlike the Ancients, didn’t react so calmly to the appearance of the creatures of the Forgotten Realm and descended into absolute panic, the civil war between them totally forgotten for now. They didn’t have any idea who they were, but they could guess they were probably bad news. The Modern and Elemental councils tried to restore order, to form the Magi back into something resembling an army but they quickly gave up. Instead they focused their attention on the new threat and how on earth they were going to defeat them. Many of the creatures, like the Blood gods for example, had once lived within the Mortal Realm but so much knowledge had been forgotten since they had vanished, leaving the two councils at a loss for what they were going to do. 

When Sherlock spotted the Hollow Heart, he let out a strangled gasp and clutched his chest, remembering all too vividly how much it had hurt when the God’s nails dug into him. With his knees shaking and threatening to buckle beneath him he grabbed onto John’s arm and clung on tightly. What the hell was the god doing here? In fact, why were any of the creatures of the Forgotten Realm here in London? Something had to have gone wrong with the doorway. 

Before he could dwell on it further however Destruction and Creation finally reached out and clasped claws after so many years being separated from one another. There was a flash of intense light and a tremor passed through the Mortal Realm. Everyone who felt it, and were able to sense magical forces, were aware of a cold shiver of anticipation running down their spine. Something big and very powerful was coming. 

Even the light and dark Ancients stopped glaring at one another when they became aware of the atmosphere lying heavy over the square. It felt like something had torn a hole in the fabric of the Mortal Realm’s reality and stepped through from another Realm. But it did not feel like one of the seven Realms everybody knew of, meaning that, suddenly, everyone gathered in Trafalgar Square found themselves faces with a potential common enemy. The temporary truce though was an uneasy one with the Ancients and the Magi being forced together whether they wanted it or not. 

The strongest feeling of magical disturbance appeared to be coming from over by Admiralty Arch and everybody present slowly turned in that direction. When they saw what was standing there, jaws dropped in shock, and Elemental and Modern Magi alike let out gasps. What by magic could they be? 

Beneath one of the arches stood two immense, otherworldly beings that seemed oddly out of place in the Moral Realm. It was very obvious that they did not belong there. One of the beings was light and airy with lightning quick wingbeats, who had the appearance of a glowing hummingbird whose feathers shone with a thousand different colours. The other was tall and incredibly thin with glass skin that revealed the clockwork gears moving beneath and powering their heart. It was strangely beautiful in an otherworldly sort of way and the Magi quickly realised they were in the presence of something ancient and powerful. 

Beside the two beings the magic of the Magi paled in comparison and the two armies gradually fell silent until even the faintest whispers had disappeared. They all knew they did not stand a chance against the newcomers and every Magi present knew it. All they could do was pray that these ancient powers proved friendly and did not end up destroying the world. Along with the arrival of the Ancients and the creatures from the Forgotten Realm things were getting badly out of hand. 

The light and dark Ancients however went quiet for a very different reason as, one by one, they fell to their knees beneath the disapproving and disappointed expressions of the two beings. The Ancients knew them all too well- for who doesn’t recognise their own parents! Chaos swallowed hard, a shiver running through it’s constantly shifting body. Why were they here? Could they really have screwed up that much? One thing was certain- this was about to get even more interesting. 

* * * * 

Far above the square there was an almighty crack of what sounded like thunder as a dark line shot across the sky. A few eyes drifted towards it but most of the Magi were too focused on the Ancients and the new arrivals from the Forgotten Realm to really focus on it for long. It was something everybody would eventually end up regretting… 


	18. Meet the parents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it has been a while since my last update and I want to apologise. From now on I have made it my resolution to update far more often than I did last year. Let's see how long I stick to it!! :)

Sherlock exchanged a glance with Mycroft and was glad to see his brother looked just as confused as he did. A slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Mycroft was clinging onto Greg’s hand as though it could keep him afloat in a world that was rapidly falling apart at the seams. Everything no longer made sense anymore and even in a world of magic and Magi’s events were becoming too incredible to believe. The Magi were gradually getting ever further out of their depths. 

“Who do you suppose these two are? They can’t be more Ancients, can they?” Sherlock asked, not sounding entirely convinced. He made sure to keep his voice quiet. He didn’t particularly want to draw the attention of the Ancients for he knew all too well what they were capable of. 

Mycroft shook his head and let out a sigh. “By earth I hope not. This is already out of control as it is. We don’t need this getting any worse than it already is.” He said, gesturing towards where small fights were breaking out amongst the Elemental and Modern Magi once again. They had fought it for as long as they could but now they were falling once again to the pervasive influence of War still hanging heavily in the air. His attention switched to Greg and he squeezed his hand tightly. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this, dear one. I never wanted you to get hurt.” 

Greg smiled and rested his head on Mycroft’s shoulder. “It’s ok. At least we’ve gone through it all together. It is not your fault the Elemental high council are old fashioned and obviously stuck in their ways.” He said with the faintest of smirks. 

Partly from shock (nobody ever spoke ill of the high council after all) Mycroft and Sherlock burst out laughing. Neither of them cared about the scandalized looks on the faces of the Magi closest to them. 

Sherlock’s good humour did not last long however because he was soon distracted by the sound of John letting out a loud groan. The Earth Magi’s eyes widened slightly as he knelt down to check on him. John’s eyes were flickering rapidly, his lips moving as he muttered beneath his breath. Sherlock leant forward eagerly. Could John finally be waking up? Oh god he hoped so! 

John let out another groan, louder than the one before, and opened his eyes. He stared blankly at Sherlock for a long moment before his eyes finally focused on the person leaning over him. When he did a huge smile spread across his face and he went to sit up, instantly regretting it when pain shoot through his chest. “Damn!” He cried, quickly flopping back down again, “By spark that hurt! And the bloody God didn’t even touch me…” His voice trailed off as he realised what he had just said, and his face grew serious. His eyes met Sherlock’s and his heart sank a little when he saw the pain still swimming in the blue eyes. He had not suffered nearly as much as Sherlock had. “How are you feeling?” He asked, his voice soft. More carefully this time he slowly raised a hand and placed it on Sherlock’s cheek. 

“I’m fine. Honestly.” Sherlock replied, smiling when he saw the look of disbelief on John’s face. Taking John’s hand, he guided it up to his chest, resting it against where his wounds had been to show that they were gone. John sucked in a breath and tried to pull away, but Sherlock gripped his wrist a little tighter. “Thanks to Creation my injuries- the physical ones at least- are completely healed.” 

John frowned in confusion, staring at Sherlock as though he were mad. With a jolt Sherlock realised his Mate had been unconscious the entire time they had been on Creation’s island oasis. He had no idea about the light Ancients and knew nothing of what had happened after the Hollow Heart had attacked them. No wonder he looked so confused! “What by spark are you going on about?” John asked, shaking his head. 

Sherlock blew out a breath and ran a hand through his curls. How by earth was he going to explain all this when he did not understand it himself? But then, maybe, there was a much simpler way. 

“Why don’t you turn around and take a look for yourself?” He said, glancing over his shoulder towards the Ancients, who were still kneeling before the two newcomers. 

Slowly John sat up, expecting to feel another jolt of pain, and was pleasantly surprised when nothing happened. He smiled at Greg and Mycroft, and then turned to find out what Sherlock could be going on about, paying attention to his surroundings as he did so. He surprised to find himself back in Trafalgar Square and could not begin to guess how they had escaped the Forgotten Realm. Especially considering how hard it was supposed to be. He did not get to dwell on it however because his gaze then fell upon the light and dark Ancients. His mouth fell open in shock and he let out a quiet gasp. “What by sparks…” His voice trailed away, partially drowned out as the clockwork looking creature started to speak. He could not say why he fell silent- just that he felt strangely compelled to as though the creature was exerting influence over everybody present. It was not a comforting feeling, but he remained silent never the less. 

Shaking his head, the clockwork creature sighed heavily and regarded the Ancients with a serious expression. “Oh, my children, what a mess you have made.” He said, his silvery eyes narrowing when he noticed the Hollow Heart and the other monsters still milling around near the shrinking doorway. “Chaos! You should know by now that opening doorways between Realms can frequently end in disaster. Or don’t you remember what happened last time?” He continued, his tone of voice sounding very much like a parent scolding a child. 

Chaos bowed its head, appearing chastised. The Ancient did not appear to know how to react. “I’m sorry father. I was only following a plan thought up by Destruction. My brother wanted to bring Creation and the other light Ancients back to the Mortal Realm where they belong.” 

Shaking his head, the clockwork creature laughed, evidently greatly amused by the antics of the Dark Ancients. He turned to address the hummingbird like creature beside him, a faint smile twitching up the corner of his mouth. “Hear that, Celeste. Chaos was trying to make things better!” He glanced back at Chaos, a wry smile spreading across his delicately carved glass features. “Maybe you were not the best one to try and fix things, my child.” He said without malice and with a trace of amusement in his voice. 

The hummingbird’s golden eyes flashed with an unreadable expression and her feathers glowed briefly with light bright enough to force everybody to look away. It was like trying to gaze into the heart of a sun. It faded quickly though and, one by one, the Magi’s attention turned back to the being they now knew to be called Celeste. It was a name that rung a vague bell for many of the Magi as they begun to remember old bedtime stories they had been told about the two beings who had essentially brought the universe into existence and created the Ancients who had caused so much damage to their realm. But unlike the Ancients who were only representations of energies existing in the world, Chronos and Celeste’s god-like powers made them into Deities who were not to be messed with if you wanted to stay alive. 

“Be nice to them, Chronos. Our children have been trying their best to fix things.” Celeste said, her musical voice gentle. The Ancients began to relax, believing themselves to be off the hook but their hopes were dashed by what Celeste said next. “There is one thing I would like to know though. Why were Creation, Dream and the rest of the light Ancients trapped in the Forgotten Realm in the first place?” She said, fixing each of the dark Ancients with a disapproving glare. 

War and Death exchanged a glance, clearly deciding between them who should answer. It was a look that did not go un-noticed by Celeste and she stared at them with an intensity that made both of them squirm. They resisted the look for a few more seconds but then it became too much for War. The Ancient hung its heavy armoured head and let out a sigh. It had not felt like this for centuries and it took War right back to the days of its childhood. Suddenly War found itself feeling rather small beside Celeste. 

“We honestly thought we were doing the right thing. You have to believe that Mother.” War said, a shudder passing through its body as Chronos’ gaze also turned to watch it with an uncomfortable intensity. The Ancient had never liked being the centre of attention and liked it even less now the attention was coming from the two beings who had created it. It swallowed hard. It really was not going to enjoy this. “One day, a long time ago when humans were still nothing but roaming predators living in caves, we discovered that Creation and Destruction had grown close to one another…” The dark Ancient faltered, noticeably withering beneath the fierce glare of Chronos. It was beginning to wish it had let Death speak up instead. 

Chronos understood what War was trying to say immediately. “That was it?!” Chronos cried, throwing his arms in the air in obvious exasperation, “Creation and Destruction fell in love and you decided to trap her in the Forgotten Realm as punishment!” He rounded on the light Ancients who flinched back slightly from the rage shining from his silvery eyes. “And I suppose you followed your sister out of solidarity without stopping to consider what the consequences might be for the Mortal Realm! Generations of war, disease and upheaval that could have been prevented if only you had stopped to think. Maybe you would have considered meeting the dark Ancients to talk to them.” He paused and took a breath in an attempt to calm himself down a little, “Celeste and I raised you better…” 

“Enough Chronos!” Celeste thundered, her voice loud enough to shake the ground beneath the feet of the assembled Magi. “I think our children have suffered enough.” 

She did not get a chance to say anything else because she became aware that the ground had continued to shake, despite her voice having dropped back to a more normal level. Something wasn’t right about this. 

Celeste was not the only one to have noticed. From where they still stood flanked by one of the lion statues Hiashi gave Rowan a sideways glance, wondering if he could somehow be responsible. He was hoping that was the case because the alternative was not something he wanted to dwell on. His heart sank a little when the council representative for Earth shrugged to show that he was as much in the dark as Hiashi was. 

“What? I’m not the one to blame for this.” Rowan said, “I hardly ever cause earthquakes any more. They require too much energy and I’m already tired.” He sounded indignant, as anyone would be if they were falsely accused of something they had not done. 

Chronos meanwhile was gazing up at the sky and the huge crack making its way across it. He felt a shiver run down his spine when he saw there was nothing beyond it but a deep black nothingness. Letting out a sigh, because he just knew his children were responsible for this somehow, he looked over at Celeste, noticing the concerned expression on her face. He had a horrible feeling that he knew exactly what was going on, which just made him all the more reluctant to give voice to it. Finally, as the crack began to grow bigger, he realised there was no way they could ignore it for much longer. 

“It’s happening, isn’t it?” Chronos asked softly, his gaze flickering to rest on the creatures from the Forgotten Realm. Up to now they had gone un-noticed by the Magi, but an Electricity Magi had turned and spotted them, quickly pointing them out to the Magi around them. Already many of them were turning to confront them, apparently oblivious to the darkness that was spreading ever further across the sky. In fact, the only creature to have noticed it was Chaos who had sensed something big and potentially world ending was taking place. The dark Ancient however never could have predicted the sight that met their eyes and stared up at the new threat with disbelief. 

Celeste nodded slowly, a deep sadness in her eyes. She knew what was going to happen. “Yes, it is, but there might be a way to stop it if we hurry…” 

Before she could say anything else, there was a roar of sound from over by the doorway and she looked round to find the creatures from the Forgotten Realm charging into the assembled ranks of Magi with a violence that took her breath away. There was a reason many of the creatures had ended up there. There were a few who were better off being forgotten by everyone. The Blatherskite particularly appeared to be enjoying itself if the grin on its slimy features was anything to go by. Celeste let out a weary sigh and hung her head. Now really was not the time for the fighting to restart. Why couldn’t things ever go to plan? 


	19. The end of everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry...
> 
> There are deaths in this chapter but I don't want to spoil it so I am not going to put character names. This is just a warning and a heads-up for those who want or need it.

It was shocking how quickly everything had gone downhill. First the creatures from the Forgotten Realm had arrived, then Celeste and Chronos appeared and now everything was apparently about to get even worse. Sherlock, John, Mycroft and Greg were beginning to wonder if it would ever end when there came an unearthly scream that made them all shudder, ice running through their veins. It was cry Sherlock recognised and he spun round, expecting to see the Hollow Heart Blood God charging towards him. Instead, before any of them could blink or react, Mycroft was suddenly dragged backward by the sharp claws now wrapped around his throat. Mycroft let out a strangled cry and summoned his power, striking upwards with a handful of poison ivy to try and shake off his attacker. It did not work and the creature that had attacked him began to laugh, tightening its grip around his neck. 

“That isn’t going to work on me, little Magi. We Blood Gods have thicker skin then that.” The creature said, its voice a horrible bubbling gurgle as it struggled to speak past a cut throat. Just like the Dripping Eye and the Hollow Heart the god was horrific to look at but what made this one worse was the wound running along its neck and the blood steadily oozing down its front. The Cut Throat Blood God was a relatively new god, a god of war and terror who had been forcibly exiled by the dark Ancients when it had become far too powerful for its own good. Like the Hollow Heart it fed off mortal fear and enjoyed causing pain whenever it could. 

Greg stared at the god in horror, realising with a sinking heart that there was nothing he could really do to help. He was nothing but a weak little human after all and was way out of his depth. Unable to bear the expression of fear and pain in Mycroft’s eyes, Greg turned to Sherlock and John. From where she was still cradled in his arms Rose began whimpering, her pink eyes swimming with tears as she watched Mycroft. Greg hugged her tightly to his chest. He was sad that she had to witness this and knew this would haunt her dreams for years to come. 

“Please, you have to help him! You’re Magi! Surely there’s something you can do.” Greg cried, his heart pounding in his chest when he heard Mycroft let out another cry. It was physically painful to hear, and he would do anything to make sure he would get through this ok. 

Sherlock and John exchanged a sorrowful look, knowing, but not wanting to admit it out loud, that there was very little they could exactly do. As they had discovered when confronted by the Hollow Heart back in the Forgotten Realm the power of a Magi was basically useless against a god. There was nothing they could do to help Mycroft, and John with his electrical powers would probably end up making everything worse. An air Magi would have been useful, but they were all too busy fighting the other creatures and gods from the Forgotten Realm. Even if they hadn’t been Sherlock and John never had a chance to call for help. The god’s grin twisted, becoming a nasty thing that showed off its fangs and Sherlock felt a feeling of foreboding settle over him. Something bad was about to happen… Seconds later he was sadly and tragically proved right when the god pulled Mycroft against its chest, rested the tip of one sharp claw against his carotid artery and slit his throat. 

Greg let out a bellow of shock and went to run forward but was stopped when Sherlock wrapped his arms around him. “Greg! Wait! If you go rushing in the god will kill you too.” He cried, his voice shaking as he struggled to keep his emotions in control. He wanted to throw himself at the Blood God and tear it to pieces, but he knew that he did not stand a chance against it. 

The Cut Throat god grinned and tossed Mycroft’s limp body to one side. A long tongue curled from its mouth and licked at the blood dripping down its claws. “Hmm, delicious.” The god said, turning and walking away to join the others. 

Sherlock waited for a moment, half expecting it to come back, but he quickly realised that it was gone to inflict pain and terror on other Magi. Releasing Greg Sherlock stumbled backwards, unable to believe what had happened. It just was not possible. There was no way his brother could be dead. His mind churned with confusing thoughts and he sank to the ground, burying his head in his hands as he began to sob. He was barely aware of John kneeling down beside him and gathering him into a hug. 

Greg meanwhile had gone to Mycroft, slumping down beside him so he could gather him into his arms. Rose chirped questionably, reaching out to touch the blood around Mycroft’s cut throat as though confused by it. She had never seen somebody die before in her short life. 

Greg did not answer her, instead letting out a cry of pain that startled Rose and made her jump. It was then that the terrible realisation settled over Rose. Not wanting to believe it she felt for a heartbeat, finding nothing but a hollow silence. A quiet whimper escaped her, steadily building into a terrible cry of grief loud enough to momentarily stop the tide of battle. Even the light and dark Ancients paused in their conversation with Celeste and Chronos, but that was mostly because Love whimpered and fell to the ground clutching at his ears. He could feel Greg and Rose’s grief and it tore into him like a knife. 

From over where he had been battling the Blatherskite Hiashi looked over at the small group, his heart sinking when he saw Greg clutching Mycroft’s limp body to his chest. The spirit Magi hung his head. This was not how events were supposed to go. This was not the future he had foreseen… 

Hiashi closed his eyes, summoning a tiny spark of power as he did so. Oh, how he wished there was a way to fix this… He jumped when a sharp claw brushed his shoulder and he opened his eyes to find himself gazing into the depthless black eyes of Death. Behind Death the other dark Ancients watched them with obvious curiosity, all of them obviously wanting to find out what their sibling was up to. Hiashi swallowed hard and looked away, feeling un-nerved by the intensity of their gazes. 

A sympathetic expression settled onto Death’s features and it curved one of its wings around Hiashi so the two of them could have their conversation in relative privacy. “I heard you make your wish, Hiashi, and I decided to grant it for you.” The dark Ancient’s expression became serious. It already knew what the outcome of this encounter was going to be. “So, what are you prepared to sacrifice to bring the earth Magi back to life?” 

Hiashi let out a slow breath and gazed over at Mycroft. Greg was still hanging on tightly to his body, tears streaming down his cheeks as sobs racked his body. Off to one side Sherlock had fallen to his knees and was staring in shock at the blood pooling around his brother’s body. This wasn’t fair. For them to have gone through so much and still have lost everything. Hiashi knew what he had to do and slowly returned his gaze to Death. 

“I’ll give whatever it takes. I am old and weary, and the world no longer has any need for a spirit Magi.” Hiashi said, realising as he said it that every single word was absolutely true. 

“I was thinking about something traditional and simple. Something like life energy replacing life energy.” Death’s expression softened as it reached out to gently squeeze Hiashi’s arm in an attempt to be comforting. It was something that did not come naturally to the dark Ancient, but it was trying it’s best. “You would get to see your family and the rest of your clan again.” 

Hiashi nodded slowly and adjusted his sleeves, brushing away several imaginary specks of dust from the purple material. “It would be nice to see my little sister again. Life has been a little darker without her around.” He paused and took a deep breath before he continued, “Do it. Take my life energy and give it to the earth Magi. He needs it more than I do.” 

“Very well.” Said Death, laying a claw tip on Hiashi’s chest, “I wish you a safe journey to the realm of the dead spirit Magi.” 

Hiashi let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes. He was expecting the process to hurt but all he felt was a slight draining sensation as Death got to work. It was closely followed by a wave of weariness that pulled at him, encouraging him to submit to the bottomless blackness that had appeared all around him. It felt so warm and welcoming he was more than willing to give into it without fighting. As he did he swore he heard a voice calling to him- a voice that sounded so much like the sister he had lost so long ago… 

* * * * 

Greg and Rose both almost suffered a heart attack when Mycroft sat up with a gasp of pure and utter panic, his hands going up to clutch at his throat. 

“What the hell?! How is this possible?” Greg stuttered, his eyes wide and scared looking as he looked to Sherlock for an explanation. 

At a loss for words Sherlock shook his head, staring at his brother with awe in his eyes. In all honesty he had no idea how this was possible. He had just watched the light fade from his brother’s eyes as he choked on his own blood. It was not a thought he was able to dwell on for long however because, seconds later, another massive crack tore across the sky. It was closely followed by the entire left side of Trafalgar Square suddenly vanishing- leaving nothing behind but a featureless expanse of white that slowly began to consume everything in its path. 

Not knowing what to do and, realising deep down there was probably nothing he could do anyway, Sherlock went over to John and pulled him into a tight hug. He could feel John shaking as he lightly kissed him on the top of the head. 

“This is it, isn’t it?” John asked, his voice barely audible. “This is actually the end of everything.” 

“I think it is my love, but at least we get to face it together.” He said, turning to give Mycroft and Greg a sad smile. It did not seem right that everything was going to end this way after everything they had gone through. He felt they deserved more than this. 

The Ancients felt the same way but, unlike Sherlock, they knew there was something they could do. For them there was still a spark of hope in what appeared to be a hopeless situation. Celeste and Chronos exchanged a glance between themselves. 

“Time to put an end to this madness I think.” Chronos said, his eyes focusing briefly on each of his children until they finally settled on Death. The dark Ancient was still cradling Hiashi’s soul in its claws but it offered it up to Chronos when it realised what the deity intended to do. “Thank you, my child.” He said, bowing his head in gratitude before he turned to address Celeste, “Do you wish to do the honours?” 

Celeste smiled gently and reached out to caress Hiashi’s cheek with one glowing wingtip. With a soft sigh of what sounded like contentment the soul melted into the different swirling energies that make up a living creature and Celeste gathered it to her. Then the deity took a deep breath and began to chant a powerful spell that would help to heal the crumbling Realm that was rapidly dissolving into nothingness around them. It was advancing quickly now, forcing Elemental and Modern Magi alike to back away until they were pressed up against Nelson’s column with nowhere else to go. Time was beginning to run out for the Mortal Realm. 

Watched anxiously by everyone Celeste faced the crumbling edge of the world and gently released Hiashi’s energy, sending it out into the blankness. Then Celeste bowed and glanced round at the light and dark Ancients. “Thank you, kind soul for your selfless sacrifice. We call upon your energy to join with ours and help us heal the rift that is destroying this Realm.” She paused and took a breath, “Okay, my children I am going to need all of you for this.” She said, curling one of her multi-coloured wings around Chronos. 

Terror snorted, baring its nightmarishly sharp teeth. “Really? You expect us to work with them?” It sneered, glaring at Creation and Kindness who stared back at it with mistrust shining from their eyes. 

Creation took offense at what Terror was saying and let out a growl, smoke trickling from her nostrils. “You’re one to talk! You were the ones who banished us to the Forgotten Realm in the first place in case you’ve forgotten.” She snapped before closing her eyes. Now was not the time for fighting. Though it took a huge effort of will she managed to get her temper back under control. “But that’s behind us now. If we don’t work together this Realm will die and all the life here will be lost.” 

Terror hung its spiky head and let out a heavy sounding sigh. “I do rather like this Realm. The humans have always been a good source of food and energy and it would be a shame if they were to cease to exist.” It hesitated before speaking again, as though what it was about to say was hard to articulate. “Fine, we’ll work with the light Ancients just this once.” It said, his voice sounding sulky. 

Celeste smiled, proud of her children as, one by one, they formed up on either side of her and Chronos and faced the whiteness. Once she was sure no fights were going to break out between the light and dark Ancients she took a deep breath to steady herself before turning to face the blank nothingness herself. 

By now almost the whole of central London had disappeared. Gathering all the power she could Celeste began to draw on the energy of the Ancients, mixing it with Hiashi’s energy until she had created a potent mix. Then she paused for a moment. She had never needed to perform this spell before and she was not one hundred per cent sure whether it was going to work or not. 

“Dark and light together will prevail. Heal this place that is beginning to fail.” Celeste intoned, her voice echoing with power. 

There was a flash of brilliant white light that was bright enough to force everyone present to look away, their eyes stinging in pain. It was followed by a roar of sound that was almost deafening. Sherlock hugged John a little tighter, honestly thinking the world was going to end. 

“I love you John. You know that, right?” Sherlock said, struggling to make himself heard over the intensity of the noise. It sounded as though the world was actually tearing itself to pieces. 

John swallowed hard and buried his head in Sherlock chest. Beside them Greg and Mycroft took one another’s hands and held on tightly, both needing to feel as though they weren’t alone. All four of them believed that this was it, that the Mortal Realm was coming apart around them. The white light grew brighter and brighter until… 


	20. Welcome to the new world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So updating has had to go on the back-burner for a little while. I've only been back at university for two weeks and the work load is already ridiculous. I really, really want to get this story finished for you guys because you have been so patient with me (something for which I will always be incredibly grateful) and I want you to know how the story ends. 
> 
> I will update whenever I can but it will probably be patchy for a little while until I can finish my assignment for Scriptwriting which involves me writing a 10-15 minutes screenplay. Most of my time and creative energy os having to go into thaat at the moment. 
> 
> Thank you for your continued patience and for coming on this incredible (and faintly crazy) journey with me. We are almost at the end. :)

…it slowly faded once again to reveal a gleaming London with no sign of the white nothingness. Modern and Elemental Magi alike gazed around with confused expressions, all of them amazed it had been so easy to stop the apocalypse. Many of the more sceptical Magi suspected there had to be a catch. Something like that had to come with a large price to pay after all. Seconds later they found themselves proved right when a cry rang out over Trafalgar Square. 

Aquarius, spotting the prone body of Hiashi, ran to his side and fell to her knees. With shaking hands, knowing it was already too late but still needing to check to make sure, she laid two fingers against his neck to check for a pulse. A single tear ran down her cheek. The spirit Magi was cold to the touch and his skin already had a faint grey tinge to it thanks to the spell Celeste had performed using his soul. 

“Oh Hiashi.” Aquarius murmured, brushing a strand of hair from Hiashi’s forehead. Aside from the wound in his shoulder he looked relatively unharmed. At least it looked like his death had been a peaceful one. 

A hand touched her shoulder and Aquarius looked up to find Cinder gazing down at her with a sorrowful expression in his eyes. “What happened?” The council representative for fire asked, his voice unusually soft. 

Behind him the rest of the Elemental high council stood with their heads bowed in respect. They were quickly joined by the other Magi. Everyone present knew how serious this moment was; the last of the spirit Magi was dead. 

Wordlessly Aquarius shook her head, too choked up to possibly be able to speak, and stood so she could join the rest of the Elemental high council once again. How could she possibly provide an answer when she had no idea what had happened? She would not have gotten a chance to speak anyway because Death walked over and stood beside them, its head bowed, and its claws clasped before it in reverence. 

“I am so sorry for your loss. He seemed like a kind soul when I held him in my claws. Be reassured that his passing was an easy one.” Death said, its voice quiet, “Know also that he willingly gave his life, so another could live.” 

Aquarius let out a loud sob, pressing a hand to her chest. Without thinking Cinder went to her side and gathered her into a hug, making quiet shushing sounds as he stroked her shoulder length blue hair. The water Magi had always been close to Hiashi and his death had hit her harder than the others as a result. She was especially going to miss their late-night conversations over a cup of tea. It simply did not seem possible that he could be dead… 

Before anyone could say another word there were loud cries of surprise from over by the doorway as more creatures travelled through from the Forgotten Realm. These ones though had much more friendly intentions then the Blood Gods and the Blatherskite. These were creatures nobody minded turning up unannounced. 

Sherlock, Greg and Mycroft found themselves recognising some of the creatures. Greg smiled at Cernunnas and received a wave from Ghost in response from where she was perched on the stag’s antlers. John meanwhile just looked confused, having no idea what was going on. All eyes turned to stare at the newcomers. 

Creation strode forward to greet them, her starry scales glowing a little brighter as happiness flooded through her. “Herne! Cernunnas!” She cried, extending her hands towards them. “You made it through the doorway. I was hoping you would follow the monsters. I’m so glad you made it through!” 

“We couldn’t not follow them, O Starry One. One of our sworn duties is to hunt down monsters and darkness to ensure no innocent lives are taken by them. And the Mortal Realm has almost no way to fighting monsters like the Blatherskite. I don’t think even the Magi really stand a chance.” Herne said as he stepped forward and allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. 

Still having no clue who any of these creatures were John tugged on the sleeve of Sherlock’s robe to get his attention. “What by sparks is going on? Do you know who any of these- “. He paused, waving his arms around while he searched for the correct word, “- creatures are?” 

Needless to say, he did not look impressed when Sherlock shook his head and let out a quiet laugh. He had been hoping Sherlock would be able to answer the question because he did genuinely want to know what was going on. He hated being left out of loop when something important was going on. 

“It’s something I’ll try and explain to you later. It’s all a little complicated.” Sherlock said, throwing an arm around John’s shoulder, “A lot happened while you were unconscious.” 

“You can say that again.” John said with a snort. “The whole world seems to have gone mad.” He gazed round at the crowd still assembled around the bottom of Nelson’s column. One thing was certain; it looked as though Sherlock and the others would have an interesting story to tell him. A faint flash of light at the corner of his eye caught his attention and he turned to see the doorway between worlds beginning to grow distinctly hazy around the edges. Well, that couldn’t be good. “Guys, we might have a problem.” He said, turning back to his little group to find them all staring in the complete opposite direction to the doorway. 

Greg stared at John with a look of incredulity on his face. “I think we already have a problem.” He said, gesturing towards where the light and dark Ancients were still gathered around Celeste and Chronos. “There’s no way we can keep all this hidden from the rest of London. There’s going to be mass panic once the news gets out.” 

Sherlock chuckled quietly to himself, shaking his head in amusement as a thought occurred to him. “Well, at least Chaos will be happy.” 

John sighed in irritation and rolled his eyes. Even now, after everything that had happened, they were all still able to see the funny side to this situation. It was amazing really considering the darkness of the past few months but at that moment John did not really care. Right now, he just wanted them to listen to him. Everything was potentially about to get a whole lot worse. “The doorway to the Forgotten Realm is closing!” He blurted out, pointing at it for emphasis. 

Sherlock, Greg and Mycroft looked over at the doorway to find that it had indeed drastically shrunk since they had come back to the Mortal Realm. It was now smaller in height and an average human adult would now have trouble going through it. That wasn’t good. Without the doorway there would be no way for the creatures from the Forgotten Realm to return home. They would be trapped in the Mortal Realm; something that would not be good for the humans and Magi who called it home. 

The worst thing was that John, Mycroft, Greg and Sherlock could do nothing about it. They were only Elemental Magi and as a result did not have the power or the skill to create doorways between Realms. Even the Modern Magi were out of their depths in this situation. And while Creation did have the power she was unwilling to risk another apocalypse by trying to keep the doorway open. Perhaps it was better for the Forgotten Realm to fade into obscurity once again. It had caused enough grief to last a lifetime. 

Seeing that everyone was distracted the Dripping Eye Blood god and the Hollow Heart exchanged a glance, sensing that their window of opportunity to act was rapidly closing. It would not be long before the Ancients and the wild hunt turned their attention back to them once the doorway was closed. They needed to act now or risk being wiped out. It was not like they would have a home they could flee to if they wanted to. 

The Hollow Heart bared sharp fangs in something that only loosely resembled a smile. “Time for us to make a quick exit I think.” The god said, before turning and breaking into a sprint. Several Magi tried to stop it, but the god lashed out with razor sharp claws, easily keeping them at bay long enough for it to disappear into the streets around the square. 

Realising what was about to happen Herne and his Wild Hunt rounded on the other inhabitants of the Forgotten Realm, but it was already far too late. With much whooping and hollering the remaining monsters and dark creatures made a run for it as well, scattering in all directions and flooding out onto streets crowded with unsuspecting humans. They had no idea what was going on and were utterly unprepared for what was about to hit them. It was not long before the first screams began to echo. Upon hearing them Celeste and Chronos exchanged sorrowful glances. This was not how things were supposed to go. The suffering of the Mortal Realm was not over just yet. 

At a complete loss as to what to do next the three high council’s members from the Modern Magi wandered over to join their Elemental counterparts, who did not react to the presence of their old enemies. Their feud and the resulting civil war seemed incredibly pointless after everything that had happened. Perhaps it was time to put their old animosity behind them and accept that the city of London was more than big enough for the Modern and Elemental Magi to share. 

The two high councils remained silent for a while, content to watch their forces slowly beginning to interact with one another. There were a few arguments but, in general, they seemed to be getting along with one another as the two sides finally realised they actually were not so different from one another. 

Embarrassed and ashamed of his earlier behaviour towards Sherlock, Steel approached the earth Magi with his hands open and stretched out in front of him. It was an old gesture of peace where your opponent could easily see if you intended them harm by casting a spell. It was supposed to show that you did not mean to attack but Sherlock still tensed up initially, unable to forget what Steel had done to him outside the Elemental Council chambers. It was only once he had realised Steel truly meant him no harm that he began to relax. Turning to John he smiled and waved at him to back down. He did not believe Steel would be a threat to them. 

“I wanted to apologise earth Magi for the actions of myself and my fellow Modern Magi. It was unforgivable what we did to you, but I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive us. We were still enemies at that point after all.” Steel said, sounding downcast and unable to meet Sherlock’s eye. 

At first Sherlock found it difficult to find it in himself to forgive. All he could remember was the pain of the glass shards entering his skin and for a brief moment he felt anger rising within him. Steel had done that with the intention of trying to kill him and he did not see why he should forgive… His anger was abruptly and quickly swept away by a feeling of peace so intense it took his breath away. Sherlock glanced over at the Ancients to find the twin gazes of Harmony and Serenity watching him. A small smile crept onto his face. He knew what he had to do. “It’s true. Back then we were enemies. Now we must make sense of this world where we are no longer the strongest magical beings and dark monsters stalk the streets. It is something I believe we would be better off doing together.” 

Steel’s head shot up, a look of disbelief shining in his eyes. “Do you really think so?” He asked, his voice hopeful. 

Before Sherlock could reply however Aquarius cleared her throat and began to speak, her words echoing what the other members of the Elemental high council were thinking. “Of course, he does. The feud between Modern and Elemental Magi has gone on long enough. It is time we put it behind us.” She said, smiling at Calligrapher, leader of the Graffiti Magi, and the self-styled ‘Trash King’ who had become leader of the Rubbish Magi. She was pleased when the Modern council representatives smiled back at her. Perhaps it would be possible to end this civil war once and for all. 

“What about the electricity Magi? They’ve never had a council representative on either side.” Calligrapher pointed out, their black robes gleaming like a petrol spill in sunlight. 

Upon hearing this Sherlock and Mycroft both glanced at John, who shrugged in reply. What Calligrapher was saying was true. Because the Electricity Magi could technically belong to either side they had never wanted to upset the delicate balance by choosing a side. Instead they had chosen to withdraw from the Magi completely, a decision that meant John Watson was the only Electricity Magi present in the Trafalgar Square. More than one gaze turned to stare at him with an intensity that made John feel uncomfortable. 

Now it was the turn of Celeste to join the conversation as she temporarily paused in ushering her children behind the scenes of the Mortal Realm. They had done enough damage for one millennium and it was time for them to return home. The work of the dark Ancients after all was over. They had indeed succeeded in ending the current era. The Modern and Elemental Magi might no longer have been at war, but they would still be leaving chaos and destruction in their wake thanks to the creatures of the Forgotten Realm. 

“Why don’t you form a new united council? That way nobody will be left out. All the Electricity Magi will have to do is elect a council representative.” Celeste said. Though herself and Chronos could not interfere in the affairs of the Mortal Realm there was nothing to stop them from dispensing a little friendly advice. 

Rowan, Aquarius, Zephyr and Cinder exchanged looks between them. There was great wisdom in what she was suggesting, and it would help to prevent any further civil wars if there was only a single Magi council. Yes, it might just work… The four Elemental council representative’s exchanged nods amongst themselves. 

Before they could dwell on it anymore however Celeste waved a glowing wing at her children and they continued to disappear from the Human Plane back into their own uncomplicated world. Out of all the Ancients Chaos was the only one who paused and glanced back, its eyes searching the crowds until they settled on Greg. A smile spread across Chaos’ constantly shifting features for a moment. Then the dark Ancient nodded briefly in farewell before he turned and vanished into the places where only the Ancient Ones could tread. 

Greg felt a shiver crawl down his spine and he shuffled a little closer to Mycroft, who wrapped an arm around his shoulders and hugged him close. “We won’t be seeing them again.” He said, more a statement of fact then a question. There had been something very final in Chaos’ smile. Not that Greg was all that sad to see them go. He was just glad the entire nightmare, that had started with him being abducted by Moriarty, was over. Maybe now life could go back to something resembling normality. Though god only knew what that normality could possibly look like. 

Mycroft let out a sigh and shook his head, glancing round at the assembled Magi. The implications of what had happened would be felt for years to come and he had a feeling nothing would ever truly be the same again. Still, at least, he, his little brother, John and Greg had managed to survive, despite the scars they would forever carry with them. “They’ve done what they came here to do. They ended an era and now it is up to us to work out how we will live in the new one”, Mycroft paused and sucked in a sharp breath as his eyes meet those of his brother, “Can we go home now?” He asked quietly. 

“I though you would never ask.” Sherlock said. Then taking John and Mycroft’s hands he summoned his magic and took a single step forward, transporting them away from Trafalgar Square and back to the familiar safety of Baker Street. 

* * * * 

It was not long before other Magi started to transport away as well. Many of them felt shaky, shocked by just how close they had come to a full-on apocalypse. All they wanted to do was to go home and make sure their families were alright. There would be plenty of time to create a new Magi council. Plenty of time to get used to the new world they now found themselves living in. First though everyone involved needed time to rest and heal. It would most likely be years before anybody could truly recover from what had happened. The Magi had a lot of things to try and come to terms with. You could not just accept a new world over night after all… 


	21. Two years later

Sherlock hated to be left behind at Baker Street but, on this occasion at least, there was nothing he could do about it. The vote on which Electricity Magi would represent their entire clan on the new united Magi council was a private affair and only clan members could attend. Not that that made Sherlock feel any better. The last he had attended a meeting he had been brutally attacked and almost killed and, though he knew it would not happen again since the truce, he found himself feeling a little paranoid. 

John had only been gone for an hour and Sherlock was already pacing anxiously from side to side despite there being hardly any room to move. Ever since the doorway had closed and he had found himself unable to return home the Drowned God had taken up residence in the front room of Baker Street. He did not seem inclined to leave anytime soon either. Sherlock was not sure how he felt about the arrangement but for now he had decided to accept the God’s presence. It scared off some of the more annoying clients they had a tendency of getting at times. 

“You’ll wear a hole in the carpet.” The Drowned God said in his gurgling voice, “And there won’t be a reason for it. You know your mate won’t come to any harm.” 

Sherlock sighed, stopped pacing and slumped down into his armchair. “I know but I still worry.” He said, running a hand through his messy curls. “Especially with all the new monsters stalking the streets of the city. London isn’t safe for anyone anymore.” 

The Drowned God gazed up at Sherlock with his blind pearlescent eyes that always seemed to see so much. “Herne and his wild hunt are always out on patrol around the streets. Besides I think John is more than capable of looking after himself.” The God said, a small smile creeping onto his bloated features. 

Though Sherlock returned the smile he was still unable to shake the worry completely. He knew he would not be able to relax until John was safely back in Baker Street… His train of thought was abruptly shattered by a loud knock on the door. Sherlock started. John! He practically ran to the door and flung it open, his heart sinking slightly when he saw who was really standing there. 

“There’s no need to look so disappointed little brother. We thought we would come round so we could hear the result of the vote from John.” Mycroft said, walking past Sherlock into the room beyond and tugging Greg behind him. 

Sherlock closed the door and slowly made his way back into the living room to find his visitors perched together on the sofa. Neither seemed concerned by the presence of the Drowned God and Greg had gone so far as to rest his feet on one of the God’s coils. They had long since become used to him being around. 

Sherlock sat down opposite them in his usual black leather chair and leant back, crossing one leg over the other. “John isn’t back yet.” He said, glancing quickly towards the door before his gaze slowly returned to Mycroft. 

His brother gazed back at him with a knowing expression in his eyes. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, Brother Mine. How much trouble can he really get into at a council meeting?” Mycroft asked a little wryly, remembering all too well a few of the meetings he had been to in his time. It was anything like an Earth Magi meeting there would be at least one serious fight before the final vote was cast. “Perhaps I can take your mind off the waiting for a little while.” He said, taking Greg’s hand and squeezing it tightly. Sherlock perked up a little, realising his brother obviously had some news for him. “Why don’t you tell him the news, Dear Heart?” 

A grin spread across Greg’s face, momentarily wiping away the darkness forever present in his eyes. He would never truly be able to forget what had happened to him in the Forgotten Realm. “I’d love to!” He cried as he reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out an envelope. He held it out to Sherlock. “We got this in the post this morning. It’s from the united Magi council.” He said, his voice now quiet and slightly reverential. It was incredibly rare to receive a personal communication from the Magi council. 

With immense curiosity Sherlock tore open the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of yellowing parchment paper covered with slanting blue writing which indicated it had come from the desk of Aquarius. The letter was only a short one but what it contained was incredible. Sherlock read it once and had to read to again to make sure he had understood it. He let out a slow breath. “You’re honoured. An apology and a blessing upon the same piece of paper. That’s practically unheard of.” He paused, slowly refolding the letter and handing it back to Greg, “I’m so happy for the two of you.” 

He genuinely was happy for Mycroft and Greg. They would no longer have to hide, no longer need to conceal their relationship from the outside world. In honour of the love between Creation and Destruction (and to try and prevent any further Magi being pointlessly exiled) the old law forbidding humans and Magi from being together had been officially overturned. Mycroft and Greg could finally be together without any repercussions. 

“I could barely believe it when I first read the letter.” Mycroft said, still sounding overwhelmed by the whole thing. “We really are entering a new age if the council have learnt to be tolerant.” 

Sherlock shook his head and laughed quietly to himself. “A near apocalyptic experience can do that to a person.” He said with a wry smile. Since that time two years ago he had found himself enjoying the little things in life with a greater intensity than before. Being trapped in the Forgotten Realm had made him realise just how fragile life could be… which was part of the reason he hated letting John out of his sight. He did not want to waste a single second he could be spending with him. 

There was a faint electric crackle from somewhere nearby, a strong smell of ozone and then the sound of a key turning in a lock. Sherlock’s head shot up and he leapt from his chair just as John walked into the living room. He looked exhausted; the meeting and subsequent vote having been overlong and extremely tedious. 

“How did it go? Did you manage to elect a council representative?” Sherlock asked, reaching out to help John step over the Drowned God’s coils. 

John gratefully accepted the help, too tired to try and clamber over the slippery scales on his own. With a heavy but satisfied sounding sigh he sank into the chair that sat opposite Sherlock’s. He sat there for a moment to catch his breath before he started to tell them the news. He was aware of Sherlock watching him the entire time. “The meeting should have been shorted but several people got into a fight about one of the candidates being put forward. They had to calm that down before we could even consider voting.” John paused and ran a hand through his hair, “We did eventually get to vote for a new council representative.” 

There was silence for a moment, in which they could hear footsteps slowly making their way up the stairs. The Drowned God sat up, licking his lips in anticipation. Sherlock however seemed not to have noticed and continued watching John with a questioning look in his eyes. 

“So, who did get voted onto the united Magi council?” Sherlock asked. 

A grin spread across John’s face and his eyes sparkled in amusement. “Sparky.” He answered, struggling to hold in a laugh. 

The corner of Sherlock’s mouth twitched up in a small smile despite his attempts to keep a straight face. “Seriously? There’s an Electricity Magi called Sparky?” Wordlessly John nodded, trying to remain serious but a laugh burst out of him against his will. Seconds later Sherlock broke as well and the two of them descended into gales of uncontrollable laughter. 

Mycroft and Greg exchanged an amused glance, shaking their heads at the antics of the other two. They had always been easily amused but then they were entitled to some happiness after everything they had been through. 

Behind them the door to the flat opened and Mrs Hudson walked in with Rose following close behind her. She was carrying a tray on which were four mugs, a plate of biscuits and a steaming pot of tea. Mycroft gave her a smile, realising he had not seen her for a while. He was still amazed at how calmly she had reacted to Rose’s sudden appearance and Mycroft had found himself suspecting there was far more to the landlady then met the eye. It was quite sweet the little friendship that had sprung up between the landlady and the little glass creature. 

“Rose dear, could you clear the table off for me?” Mrs Hudson asked. 

Rose let out a chirp and busied herself moving paper off the table, so Mrs Hudson could set the tray down. As soon as she had finished Rose reached out and grabbed a chocolate chip cookie off the tray, ignoring the disapproving look Greg was giving her. The little glass creature had grown in confidence (and attitude) since Greg and Mycroft has adopted her into their home and quickly become quite the little character. Neither of them could imagine life without her. As she tucked into her stolen cookie Rose chirped happily to herself. Beside her the Drowned God, also munching on a cookie, smiled happily to himself. 

Mrs Hudson smiled at her fondly. “Bless her. It’s strange to think someone so sweet could have come out of something so terrible.” She mused, her voice thoughtful. She may not have been there in person, but she had witnessed the events of Trafalgar Square on the news. And she had seen what it had down to John and Sherlock- the way they glanced over their shoulders and flinched at loud noises every so often. It was heart-breaking to see. It was good for them to have Rose in their lives. 

Once the tea had been poured an easy silence settled over Baker Street, while outside the London sky began to slowly darken. Gradually some of the terror of the past few years was beginning to fade, though it would never be forgotten completely. But at least life could finally begin to return to normal. 

The end. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it has been a hell of a journey and we have finally reached the end. Thank you for reading my story and for leaving comments. Here's to the next adventure John and Sherlock go on together. :)


	22. Bonus Mrs Hudson short

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bonus little scene I wrote as a bit of fun. Apparently there is much more to Mrs Hudson then meets the eye...

It was one of the few times Mrs Hudson’s sixth sense had failed her. Normally she knew straight away when someone was creeping up behind her but on this occasion, she was distracted by the blood dripping down her thumb. 

It was entirely her fault. She had not been paying attention, the knife had slipped and… well now she was examining a deep cut in the soft part of her hand below her thumb. It had been a long while since she had managed to injure herself. She let out a weary sigh and glanced behind her. There was no sign of anybody but there was always the chance someone might walk in on her. Biting her lip, she glanced down at her hand. It was bleeding quite a lot and was definitely going to need stitches, but she did not really have time to go to the hospital. She was just going to have to risk it. 

Closing her eyes, and taking a deep breath to steady herself, Mrs Hudson summoned the tiny amount of magical power at her disposal. Being a Halfling, half human and half Magi, meant she was weak in comparison to full Magi like Sherlock and Mycroft. Nobody in Baker Street knew of her parentage and she intended to keep it that way. Halflings were a bit of a taboo subject in the Magi world. 

Slowly and carefully, it had been a long while since she had needed to heal herself, she placed her other hand over her injured thumb and began to channel her power into it. A faint purple glow appeared around her hand, revealing (if anyone had been around to see it), that one of her parents had been a Spirit Magi. 

Then, from behind her, came the sound of a quiet sneeze. Mrs Hudson froze, her magic vanishing back deep within her as she lost her grip on it. Casting spells had never come very easily to her, a fact that was not very reassuring as she slowly turned to face whoever was standing behind her. 

She frowned in confusion when she was unable to see anyone. Then the sneeze came again, and she looked down to find Rose glazing back up at her with curiosity in her glass eyes. 

Mrs Hudson smiled. “Hello dear, what are you doing here? I didn’t think Greg and Mycroft were coming round today.” 

Rose chirped a few times, pointing up at Mrs Hudson’s hand where the deep gash was now little more than a small cut. She seemed to be asking how the landlady had managed to heal herself. Rose had not known she was a Magi. 

“Oh, I’m not, dear, not a full Magi anyway. I’m just a Halfling with some mild healing ability.” She said, holding out her hand so Rose could take a closer look. The glass creature lightly ran her tiny fingers over the almost healed cut, apparently fascinated by it. “But I would prefer it if the others didn’t find out. It could be our secret.” She said, smiling hopefully. 

There was silence for a moment while Rose considered this, her glass face thoughtful. Mrs Hudson held her breath. This could be it- the moment her secret would be exposed, and she would be marched before the United Magi Council. Halflings were a touchy subject in Magi society and most Magi liked to pretend they did not even exist. She would hate it if Sherlock and John started to treat her like that. 

Finally, when it seemed the silence would stretch on forever, Rose reached up and took Mrs Hudson’s hand in hers, chirping quietly as she did so. Mrs Hudson smiled down at Rose and squeezed her hand in return. 

“Thank you, dear. Now, why don’t you head back upstairs to your dad’s? I’m sure they will be wondering where you’ve got to.” 

Rose chirped again, asking a question, and looked up with hope in her eyes. Knowing exactly what she wanted, Mrs Hudson turned, took a cookie from the nearby jar and gave it to Rose. Letting out a joyful squeak Rose ran from the room, hugging the cookie to her chest. 

Mrs Hudson shook her head, smiling fondly at the glass creature’s antics, and turned back to her cooking. She knew she could trust Rose to keep her secret. At the same time, she vowed to be more careful because anyone from 221 could potentially walk in while she was using magic. She liked Sherlock and John and did not want to spoil the relationship she had with them. 

Then, letting out a sigh, Mrs Hudson picked up the knife and began to chop vegetables again. This time she made sure to keep her fingers from getting in the way… 


End file.
